


To Watch All Night

by AvecPardon



Series: Parlourverse Mainline (Reborniverse Rewrite) [2]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, doll - Freeform, fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction (blog), official reborniverse rewrite, parlourverse, reborniverse, the 5th child, the jeremy here is a mix of the reborniverse jeremy and parlour's probie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-06 09:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16829740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvecPardon/pseuds/AvecPardon
Summary: Jeremy has worked a full week at the new Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza with some help from his mentor/new friend, Mike Schmidt. Things are a bit rough but still going well for the nervous night watch, at least until the changing of the guard for this shift goes horribly wrong….





	1. 11:30 PM

_You can tell me I’m crazy for taking this job and I won’t deny it. But the thing is… you don’t understand why I have to do this. I don’t really care about the money; it’s nothing but an excuse, a cover. The night watch… there’s more to all of this than anyone realizes. I’d give anything to not be involved, but…. -sigh- Sins of the father, I suppose. There’s an escape for everyone though, but to reach it I have to drag everything out into the light, find out the truth of what happened in 1987. I just hope Mr. Schmidt doesn’t suffer too much from it…._

_–Jeremy_

—————–

**11:30 PM**

“You’re **late**.”

Jeremy winced at the disapproval dripping from Mike Schmidt’s voice, the older man glaring at him with arms folded over his chest. He shuffled into the office and set his backpack down before turning to face Mike, shoulders hunched _juuuust_ so. “S-sorry, Mr. Schmidt. I was running a bit behind on my homework,” he replied lamely, looking up at him with what he hoped was a decent impression of a kicked-puppy face.

Maybe it was better than usual tonight; Mike’s glare softened three seconds sooner than usual and the day shift guard lowered his arms to rub Jeremy’s cap on his head, flipping the bill down over his eyes. “You’re forgiven **this** once, Probie,” he said in a stern tone that just bordered on mocking. “Don’t make a habit of it. You need the time before midnight to check the place.”

Jeremy fixed his cap in time to see his friend’s expression turn pensive, almost distantly sad and bitter. And then it passed before he could ask about it. Oh well. Next time. “I really wish you’d stop calling me that. I’m on my second week; even **you** looked impressed by that!” Jeremy complained as Mike kicked a box of party hats in front of one of the vents.

“Yeah? And now I’m not. C'mon, Fittergarble, or whatever the fuck your last name is-”

“Fitzgerald, sir.”

“-I’ll go on a round with ya. Just to be sure you have things down.” Jeremy just sighed in silence, watching with a faintly annoyed air as the security guard kicked his pack in front of the other vent. “Okay, let’s go.”

He made mental note to move those afterwards. No sense giving the animatronics more things to be angry about.

**11:50 PM**

Jeremy hesitated at the entrance to Kids’ Cove, lingering at the doorway with his flashlight in hand. Normally he would be berating himself for his fear, telling himself he needed to be less of a scaredy-cat in front of Mike; he used to do exactly that during his first few days. Then he realized Mike did the same, standing close to the entrance with his back to the wall and eyes on the ceiling, the faintest expression of dread on his face. The next night showed him _why_.

“Try not to let her get out of the light’s range,” Mike said suddenly, snapping Jeremy back to the here and now, before the memory of a clown-faced fox swinging down at him seconds before 6 AM made him cry again. The older man flipped his tablet and swept its light over the ceiling before shining it across the room. The Mangled lay in her disfigured heap across the room from them, mismatched eyes in separate heads gleaming. Jeremy flinched, thumbing the switch of his flashlight defensively. The new Foxy and her companion head gave him the willies in the worst way.

“R-right,” he murmured, licking suddenly dry lips. “Where next, Mr. Schmidt?”

Mike was silent, leading him away from the Cove. Jeremy hurried after him, clutching his flashlight as though it were a nightstick. It was a cheap thing with limited battery power; of the two of them, Boss spent money only on one ‘weapon’, the little rechargeable taser Mike carried at his hip during the day shift. Didn’t stop him from shoving it into Jeremy’s hands on his third night at Freddy’s….

“Ah?”

Jeremy ended up walking straight into Mike without thinking, bouncing back in alarm and waving a hand in a flurry of motion. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Schmidt! That was on me! I should have been paying attention!” he babbled before blinking in surprise. Looking around, he recognized the Prize Room and grimaced. He hated the animatronic here the most, always terrifying him with its fits if he let the music box it loved so much wind down. On the good nights it would drag him to the box and force him to keep cranking it all night in exchange for keeping the other animatronics away. On the bad nights… on the bad nights Jeremy called Mike on his phone and dove for cover as hell broke loose in the pizzeria. Guy seemed pretty determined to keep him out of the way during those times.

Which made this stop very odd…. Mike _never_ took him here during the shift change, said he felt better if he cranked the box to full before meeting him for the change. So why did he-?

“It isn’t playing,” Mike whispered, peering into the dark room apprehensively. “It was **full** when I left it. It should still be playing through the change.” Jeremy tensed, clutching his flashlight with both hands as he stared wide-eyed into the shadows beyond the doorway to the prize room. First rule of the night shift; **never** let the music box run out. Good or bad, the Marionette had a hair-trigger temper and Jeremy preferred avoiding it altogether. _“Why isn’t it **playing**?!”_

“We should go. We should _definitely_ go. The remote turn-key in the office is just as good!” he whispered back fearfully. Mike looked ready to say something, apprehension turning to actual alarm, but then he sucked his breath in sharply at the sound of scuttling in the ceiling over them. Jeremy froze in recognition. Oh, oh **no** , oh _please_. They still had five minutes! _**Why?!**_

 ** __** _“Run!”_ Mike yelled, grabbing his shoulders and shoving him ahead as Mangle dropped out of a vent with a shriek. Jeremy bolted, racing down the hall with the day guard beside him. “The office! We need to get there!”

“In that **death trap**?!” Jeremy cried in disbelief, giving Mike a horrified stare.

“The doors-! _Fuck!_ We don’t **have** doors!” The older man snarled, one hand holding his hat in place. “This is fucking _bullshit_! **Again?!** Are they _shitting_ me?!”

The Mangled continued screaming in her distorted way, voice shrill and crackling with static. Her limbs scrabbled at tile, tail and tentacle lashing out at them each time she crashed close to them. Rather than running like Foxy, Mangle seemed to **throw** herself across distances in parts, reassembling on the move in more and more gruesome configurations, her extra head laughing maniacally as she scuttled along. She was terribly fast, and every now and then she would swing across gaps.

Like… **now**!

Jeremy ducked as Mangle swung over his head, covering his ears when she roared down at him in passing.

“Three minutes! You fuckboys are breaking the night shift rules! Do you **want** me to stay and kick your asses all night?! 'Cuz I fucking **will** ; _I̶ ̵̨p͢l̴͜a̴͜y̵e͏͜d̢͢ ̴t̸̵h̵͢į̨s ̴g̡͘a͘̕͡me͝͠ ̴b̧e̛f̴̷̧o҉̕r̵͘e͢!͢_ ”

Mike’s yell only got a rapid black blur zipping across the floor between him and Jeremy as an answer. Jeremy immediately tried to slow himself down, arms windmilling in a panic. “ _Aaaaah!_ It’s the Marionette! It’s out! **It’s out!** ” he cried in shock.

The Mangled dropped from the ceiling beside the Marionette, snarling at the creepy puppet before turning her wide open jaws at him and Mike, the two of them barely managing to stop themselves in time. The Marionette twisted its head one way, then the other, cracking and creaking as its cruelly bright black eyes bore into Jeremy’s gaze.

He froze in place, feeling an immense pressure weighing on him, crushing him. The urge to just collapse in place welled up and Jeremy brought his hands up to his mouth, choking on his sobs.

_No._

He didn’t want to **die**.

Not like _this_.

Not _here_.

His knees shook. _So scared._ The Marionette turned its gaze to Mike, its mask tilting just enough to give the illusion of a huge smile stretching over it, full of gleaming sharp teeth.

It lifted a hand towards the day shift guard just as Mangle coiled in on herself with a hiss, crackling static growing louder and louder.

Mike was frozen in place, face pale as he trembled with an expression that made Jeremy think of a rabbit staring into the barrel of a shotgun, his breath little more than quick gasps on the verge of hyperventilation. Jeremy had **never** seen anything faze Mike past his usual air of 'Don’t touch me’; this was almost as terrifying as the two animatronics blocking their way.

He didn’t even get to scream when both Mangle and the Marionette leaped at them, their unified roars thundering in the hall.

Everything simply went dark.

**12:00 AM**


	2. ?

_“̶͟҉.̵̧͟͢..̕͠S̶̕͜-҉̧s͘l̵̛͘͜e̵͘͢͡e̡̧͝p͘͘͟.̸̧͞͏.̴͢.͏̴̕.̧͞"̛͏̶͟_

_"No…!”_

_“I̧ ͢w̧͘o̵̷n̵̢.̨.͞.̢͟͝.̶ ͘S̡l̴͜ęęp̷̴,͏̷͡ ̛͘o̷r̢͜͢ ̛fa͝-̶f̷a̴̛҉i̴̛͠ļ ̢̢͢a̧͜g̢͠ai̸̷n.̶̷͢"̵_

_"I won’t let you-!”_

_Ksssss!_

_“!!”_

_Sssccccrrr….!_

_“Don’t! …Okay…. Okay… **I̸̢͠ ̢͠subm̢̕i͜t.̷..͠.̴̷** ”_

_“̵̷S̢̕͏̸͢l̸̴͘͞e̸̵͘͘͞e҉̧̢̡͞p̨̛!̢҉̶͟͜"̸̡_

_Arms caught him as he sank to the floor, a pair of tears dropping to land on the tile…._


	3. 12:00 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night shift starts for Jeremy, who has more questions than answers. A bit of poking around uncovers a frightening development; Freddy and the Fazbear Band are holding Mike hostage….

**12:00 AM**

“Nngh… wha….”

Jeremy stirred, slowly coming to and feeling a series of deep aches making themselves known. His upper arms felt bruised to the bones, his neck felt like it had a kink from being in an awkward angle too long, a few spots on his head itched like something had tickled him lightly on the scalp, and there was an overall sense of having been squeezed a hair too hard in a hug.

Still, he was in one piece, alive and whole and very much not shoved into a Freddy suit.

In fact…. He opened his eyes slowly, let the blur from disorientation fade, and furrowed his brows together lightly in confusion. His tablet… his cheek was pressed into a flat wood surface. The breeze from the ever-active fan blew over him gently.

_‘Huh.’_

Jeremy pushed himself upright, wincing as his movement made his aches and bruises protest. The security office… he was in the _office_? Had it all been a nightmare? He made to stand up and wobbled as blood rushed from his head, his hand rising to grab at it and hold himself steady, brain throbbing in fresh pain.

_'Ugh! God, what **happened** to me?!’_ Was his nightmare that horrible? He barely remembered what it was about! Something with Mangle… or the Marionette… both were equally traumatizing to face. Something else, there had been _something else_.

Jeremy rubbed his head hard to get rid of the last scraps of nightmare, his dizziness, the tickling itches, and his confusion all in one go. It didn’t matter. He shouldn’t be asleep on the job anyway. May as well stuff himself into a suit for those mad spirits for all a nap would do. What time was it? Did he remember to synchronize his watch with the clock? He checked. **12:10 AM.** Okay, where was the time card box?

He walked over to the new clock and checked it. Yes, the time matched up… wait.

Jeremy reached into the box beside the clock and pulled out Mike’s time card, staring at the last slot with dread curling in his gut. _It wasn’t punched_. Mike, for all his major faults and flaws, was a habitual clock watcher. Jeremy suspected it had to do with his time as the night watch for the old Freddy’s Pizza. He would **never** miss his shift open/close times.

Mike never punched out.

_'Is he **still here**?!’_

Jeremy rushed back to the desk, scooping up his backpack and opening it on the go. The Freddy Fazbear head he was given worked fine for a couple nights but it was slow to put on and made it hard to see when he wore his glasses under it, glasses he didn’t need but slipped on when Mike wasn’t looking so he could check… _other things_. All the same, he modified the head into a mask with a snug strap and wore it on his head at a tilt. The eyeholes he widened a bit more to give space for his glasses and make it easier to hook his fingers into them.

He put the mask on now -habit- and adjusted it with one hand as he reached for the tablet, only to pause when his hand passing by the phone drew his attention to it. The message light was blinking.

_'But Mike usually calls me direct for giving instructions. Is it from Doll? If Mike’s still here, she might be calling for him.’_

Then why didn’t Mike answer his cell phone? She would call him first, not the office….

**There’s** that familiar sense of dread….

Swallowing hard, Jeremy sat down and pressed the play button, then checked the time again - **12:15 AM** \- as he grabbed his flashlight and flicked the light on at the office entrance, slipping into the starting motions of the night shift. Turning the flashlight to the vents activated a sensor in it to act as a remote control for the lights in the vents, useful to turn those on using the building’s power instead of the internal battery. Still a cheap flashlight.

The phone rang as usual, a strange quirk for playing back a recorded message, and Jeremy almost tuned it out as he flipped up the tablet to check the cameras, tapping the flashlight against his shoulder absently.

It eventually clicked to the message, and the sound of shaky, heavy breathing began to play, making Jeremy freeze in place with a disturbed expression on his face. _'What the-?’_ He glanced aside at the phone, eyes wide.

_“Pro-… Jeremy… I don’t have long to talk,”_ Mike said in a rough voice, worn and accented by the crackle of static from The Mangled in the background. _“I need you to listen carefully. What I did… I don’t know… something’s… augh!”_ There was a sickening sound, like bone shifting, cracking, and Mike groaned in pain. Jeremy’s skin crawled, heart pounding as he flashed his light a bit more and let it rest.

_“S-something’s happening… to me… my head… 5 AM… that seems important… I don’t… gnngh!”_ More cracking and Mike uttered a strangled sob, the sound of Mangle drawing closer and nearly drowning out the day guard’s voice. _“Not your fault! Ok?! Get me away from them, we’ll call it even! Augh! Let **go** of me! **Stop!** Gaaaaauu-!”_

The message ended with a mechanical shriek and then abruptly disconnected.

Jeremy just stared at the phone, hands gripping his arms tight as he huddled on the chair, eyes wide and tears running, pouring, down his face. “M-Mike… nooooo….” he whined in loss. _Why? **How?**_ This **couldn’t** be happening. Just twenty-something minutes ago, they had been making the change-over round together as always, Jeremy listening eagerly to any bit of survival information Mike passed to him as they walked the halls side by side. Now… _now_ …. He buried his face behind his knees, wailing softly into the fabric of his slacks.

Time passed. Eventually the wails subsided and Jeremy wiped his face clean before bringing up the cameras again. _'Music box, gotta keep it charged.’_ He held down the switch to pass the building’s power into the music box’s battery bank, then flipped it down. His shoulders slumped even as he pulled the mask down from habit. Was **any** of this necessary now? He had lost. The reason for getting hired, the search for answers that led him to a name in a sea of black… all gone in a roar of animatronic glee.

How could he face Doll and tell her he had failed to let Mike clock out safely? Would disappearing into the clutches of the Fazbear Bands be any worse? Just let whatever murderous spirit clung to this place win….

Jeremy gave the black thought serious consideration, flipping the tablet back up as he slid aside his mask to see the screen clearly. Maybe getting stuffed would be quick. He tapped the camera to Parts and Service, then keyed on the light to see what awaited him down that morbid path.

He saw Mike instead.

_“What?!”_ Jeremy exclaimed in shock, earlier thoughts blasted clear as he brought the camera to better focus.

The old animatronics sat in a loose circle around Chica, looking at her with slightly tilted heads. Or rather, they looked at the figure resting limp in her arms, cradled carefully so only one arm dangled free, head resting against her shoulder. Mike looked unharmed -a miracle considering his company- and his eyes were closed. Despite his voice in the recording sounding pained and rough with fear and exhaustion, his expression on the camera was oddly neutral. Like he simply didn’t care where he was sleeping.

Or maybe he wasn’t alive to care….

Jeremy slapped himself sharply for that thought. He **had** to be positive; Mike was there and not stuffed in a suit, so it was up to him as the night watch to save him!

Plan of action in place, he checked the time again - **12:38 AM** \- and unhooked the tablet from its station. His flashlight was slung into its holster at his hip. Jeremy took a deep breath to steady himself, then pulled the Freddy mask around to hide his face.

“Right then. I’m coming to save you, Mr. Schmidt!” he decided firmly and ran out of the office, making a beeline for the Parts and Service room.

**12:45 AM**

Jeremy stood stiffly in the middle of the hall leading to Parts and Service. The Mangled hung from the ceiling in front of him, teeth bared as the broken endo head attached to her cackled and laughed.

_“̵͘͝͞͠G̷o̡͢͠͏ ̡̛҉b̴̸̢͘-͢͏b̛͢͝͡ą͞҉c̷҉͝k̴̸̸̛,̴͢͠"̷̛͢͡_ Mangle hissed, shifting her parts in place as wires and metal scraped and spilled from her body. _"̷͢H̶̵͝e̴͠ ̷̡i̧s̢ ͡s̸̨s̵̵s̵͞͏s̡҉s̶͢ąf̨e̷.̛ H̷̷͝e̴ ҉w͝i͡ļ̶l̸͞ ̵̶̛b-b̢ȩ͜ ͢s̸̴s̶͜ş͘s͘͞s͘͏s͢͡a̡fe̷.̡͜ ͜F͜o̢r̡҉e҉v̨e͏r͘ ̧͜͢no̴w͞-͞o̕͢w̛͞-̕͞n͠o͡͏w̡. ̴H̵̡͟e i̶̧ş̕͠ ̧̕͢o̧͏u̸͡r͡ss̵s҉͏s̴̡͟s̸̢͝s."̢͏̵_

"You can’t **do** that!” Jeremy gasped in protest, “Please! He’s the day shift guard; he worked so hard to get out of the night shift! Let him go!” He forgot himself, waved his arms around wildly in agitation and froze as Mangle reared up and hissed, the static cracking in her voice as her eyes turned strangely black with gleaming pupils.

_“̵H͝ȩ i̧ss̵͝s͟s ̴҉o͢u̸r͡s̡͏҉s҉s̴s̡ss͠s͜. ͡H̛ę ̧̛w̶͏i̢-̕w͏͞i͝͝l͏҉l̵͠ ̸҉s͘s̴͏s̴͜t͟͠a͞͏y̶͏͢.̶ ͟H̶̵e ͏w҉i̵l͏l ҉be̕͟ ̷̴͢s̸̕͝s͝͏͏s͞͝s͜s̵͏af̴͢e̷.̢̨ ͠͞͏Ţḩ̴͟e͜͞ ̡͢c̨h̨i-͞c͏h͟͞i҉ld̢ren̶̴͡ ̷̴w͢i̢͘l̸̨l͟ ͟bȩ-͟b̨̧e̶͢ ̴̨ss҉s̡s̕a̛͜͠f̧e͟͠!̸̢̢ Th͏ą͘t'͡͝s͟ ͝҉t͜͏͟h҉͞e ҉p̛ri̕͢-̶i͝-͜i̵̛ce͘̕!͘”_

_“Two͘ for͠ ̡t͘he p̷ric͜e-p͘ric̢e͡-͘pri͞ce o̵f̴ ͡o̧n͠e͢!̕”_ her endo head companion declared before falling into a cycle of rapid-fire laughter that bounced off the walls.

Jeremy stared at them, horrified even as he tried to make sense of the words. Mangle never made sense, but sometimes… sometimes her words were less weird jokes and more clues to what was up with Freddy’s. One day, he’d like to listen a bit more and try to sift out the good information from the junk but _tonight_ ….

Tonight he was running.

Mangle roared, twisting in place after Jeremy flashed the light in her eyes. He used that bit of time to turn and make a run for it, racing over the tile to get to the office again, screaming in blind panic as he moved.

_“̛Ḩ̷̡e̢ ̢͝i͜s̢͟ ̛̕ss͏ş͡ss̡a͏f͟͏ę!̴̢ ͠He̴̷ ͢i̴s̵̢s̡͘͠s ͏̕our͠şs̵ss͝s̷̛҉!̶̶͡"͘_

The skittering of metal tapping rapidly over metal followed Jeremy. Vents! She had to be in the overhead vents again! **Why** did the pizzeria think making vents big enough to fit giant animatronic animals was a brill idea?! The building was just one massive **death maze**!

Nearly tripping over himself, Jeremy dove through the open doorway of the security office, twisted enough to land on his back, and slid across the floor to crash into the desk. " _Guh!_ Owww!" he groaned painfully, shifting in place as his sore muscles protested. The skittering of sharp metal points on slick tile spurred him to action, however, and he fixed the Freddy mask to cover his face properly again before grabbing his flashlight.

Just as Mangle’s fox-head poked into the entrance, Jeremy pointed the flashlight at her and flicked it on, blasting light directly into her lone eye. Another scream of pain and rage, and Mangle scuttled away into the darkness, vanishing in an undulating blob of spare parts and circuits. He watched her go while breathing hard, one hand rubbing gently at the bruise he could feel forming in that spot between his shoulder and neck where it took the impact from him hitting the floor, then the desk.

Safe? What did she mean by keeping Mike _safe_? Jeremy was fairly sure the animatronics keep trying to stuff people into suits full of deadly crossbeams, not rescue them from seemingly **nothing**. At least, Mike had been pretty adamant that was what the Fazbear Band did.

Mike! The Band!

Jeremy shoved the mask back into place on his head, held in that tilt over his hat that kept it pinned without jabbing into his skin. He flipped the tablet and went first to the Prize Corner, holding down the switch to charge the music box again. Whatever had happened, both The Mangled and the Marionette had something to do with it and he had nerves enough only to deal with **one** of them. Best face the one who could be fooled by the mask and light….

He switched to Parts and Service once the box was charged again. The old animatronics were all still there, sitting around and looking broken and run-down like usual. The exception was Mike, who sat leaning against Foxy in a slump. Now Jeremy couldn’t see his face either, the shadow cast by his hat in the glow of the camera’s flashlight hid everything but his mouth and chin.

"It’ll be okay, Mike," he murmured, flicking over the cameras to see the stage. Chicacoo and BonBon had moved; typical of them to go first. “I’ll get you out of there somehow.” Maybe once the other animatronics went on the prowl in the building, he could sneak over and get Mike out of the room?

His skin was crawling again; oh, he couldn’t do this, couldn’t, just _couldn’t_! He wasn’t strong enough, didn’t have the kind of power Mike did to face the animatronics on his own. Jeremy had lost track of how many times he’d had to call Mike to help him at some point each night. Whether it was to hear him give tips, putting the speaker on to let him rage at whoever was in the office while he hid under the desk, or actually having him show up in person to chase the murderous robots back to their starting points, the older guard always stepped in when things got rough.

Jeremy sort of cowered behind him and hated himself a little more each time.

He sniffled and whimpered, rubbing at his eyes as the tears welled up again. What if Mike being captured like this had been **his** fault?

_“Not your fault! Ok? Get me away from them, we’ll call it even!”_

Jeremy jerked his head up with a gasp, hand reflexively yanking the mask over his face as he moved. That’s what Mike said, he **specifically** said that what had happened was **not** his fault. Which meant in a way it **was** and Jeremy had better fix this or else….

He took another deep breath, told himself to panic later, and shoved everything to the back of his head to deal with after Mike was out of the building. Tablet up, mask aside; where was everyone now?

Chicacoo in the main hall. The Mangled was no longer there, and the door to Parts and Service was closed. Jeremy clutched at the ring of keys on his belt.

BonBon in Party Room 3, grinning up at the camera as he held his guitar. Jeremy despised the conniving look of the rabbit; he was always staring at Mike like he was planning something awful that amused him. Amazing how quickly he learned which animatronics had deceptive natures; Jeremy supposed the old saying 'it takes one to know one’ suited him _far_ too well.

BB still in place at the Game Area. Mangle clung to the ceiling nearby, heads facing the entrance to the Prize Corner with both mouths open in snarls. What the heck was she _doing_?

Fred was still on stage, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but in the pizzeria. Jeremy kind of liked Fred, even though Chica and Chicacoo -while terrifying at night- were his favorites. Something about their mothering natures was comforting to him; it was the same for why he liked Doll and tried hard not to pull Mike away from her to save his sorry self at night. Fred had that air of distance, like he’d be the guy to hold a hand out on a kid’s head to keep them away from him while his expression remained unchanged. Fred reminded Jeremy of Mike, not that he’d say so out loud, not if he wanted to avoid getting his butt kicked.

Crap, mental rambling. Not good. Focus, focus. “Severo. Admin. Goto. Command,” Jeremy chanted his calming mantra to himself, felt his scattered thoughts settle down, quiet in his head, then breathed a sigh of relief.

He needed to get the old animatronics out of Parts and Service to be able to get to the security guard. Easy enough, right? Jeremy flipped the tablet, hooking the mask over his face to glance around the office furtively, then pushed it aside to grab his flashlight and shine it at the main entrance and vents. No one near, and the music box still had time before the next charge.

“Okay. I know my plan. Phase one; get the robots out here. Phase two; use the mask to get past them in the halls. Phase three; get Mike out of Parts and Service,” Jeremy told himself and felt his fear fade a bit more. Talking things out like that always seemed to make him feel more in control. “I can **do** this. For Mr. Schmidt. For Doll. For the answers I want.”

And as the time crept on, the only question still tickling at his curiosity was… why did Mike say 5 AM was important?

**1:00 AM**


	4. ??

_“How was your nap?”_

“Nngh… what… **what** did you **do** to me?”

_“͢C͢͝o̢m҉҉e͝ ̧w̶͘i͝th u̸̵҉s̷͜.̴͏̵ ͘͠T͠-t̢o͠͝ ̕P̴͝a͘r̛t̡s͝s̵̷̸s͠s̴̡͏ an̕͟d͢ ̴S̷̡͜e̢͘r̵-s̸̷͢e̶͡r̨̢v̷̧i͡͡c̶͘͞e͢͝.”_

“And why the **fuck** would I do **that**?”

_“You don’t have much time. She’s already working. Can’t you feel it?”_

“What are you-? **…ah…** wh- _what_ …?”

_“Y̢͠o͟͝u̸̡ ̛s̶͘s͟͡s̶͏ub̷m̧i̶t̷̨t̡͏e̴͝d͟.͢҉ ̢͏ **S͢͞h̶e** ̴͠ss̷̢͞s͜u͡͏b͡m̧͜i͝tt̕ę̵d.̷͠ ̸̧Yơu ̧w̷͠il͞l̴͞ ̕͡͞b҉͢e͘͠ ͜͞͞s͘s͠s̷̸̛şaf͏e͢͝.͟͠"̴͡_

"Safe? What do you… **augh!** Why… _cold_ … _nngh_ - **gah**!”

**S̛l̸͟e̕e҉͠p͟͡,̨̡ M̸ik̴̷͏e̷͘͟y̷.̕͞ Į̵'m҉̡ ͘s͡o̴̧͞rr̨y!̴**


	5. 1:00 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night shift goes on and Jeremy is desperate to understand what’s happening. But there’s a threat to Mike’s life and Doll is calling to find out what’s become of her missing boyfriend, and the animatronics are acting stranger than usual….

**1:00 AM**

_*Ring Ring!*_

Jeremy twitched, then scrambled to get off the floor and back behind the desk. Another message? Or… no, this was an _actual_ call. Oh, **please** don’t be Doll. He really didn’t think he could say anything to her that wouldn’t have the young woman ramming her father’s truck into the building.

Mike would **murder** him if Jeremy got her involved. Assuming he was able to rescue the man….

Another slap. Focus! Severo. Admin. Goto. Command.

The phone rang a few more times. Should he pick it up?

Jeremy flashed the light at the vents and main hall, spotting Chicacoo standing in the dark not far from the office, beakless and black eyes gleaming. _‘Ah, man! Let it go to the answering machine! We’re closed for the night!’_ He yanked the mask in front of his face and ducked under the desk, relaxing himself as best he could to take on the appearance of a slumped and inactive animatronic. _'Chicacoo, you’re adorable by day but you scare me at night. Please go away!’_

The phone rang on. Footsteps. Jeremy held still, keeping his breathing as soft as possible. Yellow legs and bird feet appeared in a corner of his vision, standing in front of the desk, smooth and shiny.

A click as the phone was picked up. The handset dropped carefully down, dangling on the cord so he could see it and hear who was calling. Did Chicacoo do that for him?

_“…Jeremy….”_

Jeremy barely managed to hold in his sudden twitch of shock. Mike! Mike was on the phone! But….

_“Get me o̕ųţ̢. Please…. Get m̷͢e͢ out.”_

He shivered slightly. Chicacoo walked away, leaving the office as the call went on.

_“…I do̴͜n̡'͠t̴͟͡ k͘no͏̷w̵͝… what’s h̴a̵͝͡p̶҉p҉̡̨e̛̕͞n͜͡͞i͟͟͜͞n͏̴̶̛g̸҉͡… to me….”_

He felt himself shaking, crying. Why was this happening? What did the animatronics want with Mr. Schmidt?

**“͘.͜.̧.thi̧s͡ ̵i̛s ̴t͏e̡mp̢o͠r̨ar̶y…͏ ̷h̛e͡ i̛s sa̴fe̛ fǫr̸ now...."͞**

That… that wasn’t Mike’s voice. Not exactly. _'What **is** that?! Is **that** …?!’_ Jeremy stared at the phone, pushing the mask aside as he reached out to grab the handset and hold it closer.

_**"͠…̷Y̨o̶u̵ ͘ha͝v͜e ̢u͢n͏t̴i̛l 5 ̛A͏M.̧ ̡Th͝en͡ ͞h͠e ͟di̢e̕s. ̡I͟’m ͝so̶rry."̛** _

**__** _*Click*_

"Mr. Schmidt? …Mike?” Jeremy called out lamely, eyes wide with horror. “ _Whatever_ you are, let him **go**!” he yelled in a rush of anger.

Silence.

He crawled out from under the desk and flashed his light at the office entrance and vents. Nothing. The beam flickered unsteadily as his hand shook, tears running down his face as he ground his teeth together.

“He **doesn’t deserve** this! _**Let him go!**_ ” Jeremy screamed out into the hall.

The darkness only laughed back at him, mechanical giggles that sounded like psychotic children taunting him. Jeremy slammed a fist onto the table, wailing wordlessly, over and over until time lost meaning, the animatronics staying back in answer to the rage and anguish that emanated from the security office.

**1:35 AM**

Jeremy held the switch down to charge the music box to full, then clicked around to check on the positions of the animatronics. Of them all, only Mangle refused to move, still screaming her radio static at the entrance to the prize room.

After the anger had finally passed, Jeremy had checked the Parts and Service room to see how Mike had made the call. The only animatronics left in the room were Foxy and Chica. Bonnie and Freddy were both in the main hall, heads bent to each other as if to talk in whispers.

In the room, Mike lay half-curled on the floor, head supported by Chica’s wing-hand. Near Mike’s hand was his cell phone; had he woken up just long enough to make that call? Then why hadn’t the animatronics done anything to him while he was conscious? And if he passed out again, who was it that told Jeremy that he only had until 5 AM to rescue Mike?

The questions lingered in the back of his mind as he kept track of the robots wandering the pizzeria.

_*Ring Ring!*_

Jeremy blinked, pulling the mask around as he flipped the tablet down. No one in the immediate area, so he was safe for now. Was Mike calling again?

He pushed the mask back to its tilted position and carefully picked up the phone, bringing it close. “H-hello?” he greeted cautiously.

_“Jeremy? Do you know where Mike is? I’m getting worried. He should have been home **hours** ago and he’s not answering his phone,”_ Doll’s voice was full of concern and slightly shaky.

Oh, **god** , what was he going to do **now**? What could he **say**?!

_“Jeremy?”_

He glanced at his watch. **1:40 AM**. This was the **worst** thing that could happen. Oh, what could he say?! What could he say to calm her fears when he himself was _terrified_?

“Ah, Miss M!” Jeremy yelped, panic finally forcing his voice to work. 'Miss M’, his pet name for her after getting to know Mike’s girlfriend; Doll was sweet but tough, and Jeremy hoped his friend would soon get the money to buy the ring to propose to her, because she may get the idea to do it herself. Assuming, of course, he could get Mike free…. “He’s with me. Here. At Freddy’s. He’s fine!”

Yeah. That **really** convinced her.

_“Jeremy… put Mike on the phone.”_

He flipped the tablet and checked the cameras. Freddy and Bonnie were gone from the main hall. “I would, Miss M, but he’s kind of… um….” Chicacoo was in Party Room 1 now, crouched near the vent. The child-like laughter of BB meant the kid-sized animatronic was on the move. “Busy?”

_“Sweetie?”_

Oh, she’s mad. Jeremy pulled the mask over his face and whimpered.

_“Put Mike on the phone.”_

The lights flickered and Jeremy held still, glancing aside as BonBon stepped into the room -the vent, he didn’t check the vent, he was expecting BB, **not** BonBon- and moved close to look at him.

_“Jeremy….”_

BonBon smiled, almost leered at him, then turned and left the office. Jeremy let out his breath in a slow stream, his heart pounding as he shot a glare after the rabbit.

“Miss M, please, I need to focus,” he replied carefully, pulling the mask aside and returning to the cameras.

_“Why? …I thought the night shift was safe now because the new robots recognize people. Is something going on?”_ Doll’s tone grew suspicious as well as more concerned. _“Did something **happen** to Mike?”_

“What? No, not at all! Mike’s _fine_!” Jeremy said in a bright tone, flicking through the rooms to check on the animatronics. “He’s **completely** fine! The night watch is fun! Mr. Schmidt is just being his usual self!” He clicked to Parts and Service in the hope that Chica at least was out; Foxy wouldn’t be fooled by the mask, but Jeremy could just flash him with light to reset him and then be free to rescue Mike.

_“…Really?”_

“Really! Mr. Schmidt is completely, totally, perfectly-”

The Parts and Service room had Foxy standing in a corner, but Chica and Mike were nowhere to be found.

“- **gone**?! Ohhhh no no **no**!”

_“Jeremy? Jeremy?! What do you **mean** he’s **gone**? **Where’s Mikey?!** ”_

“I’ll have to get back to you, Miss M! S-sorry!” Jeremy exclaimed in a panic and hung up, pressing buttons frantically. Where did they take him? Where?! _Where?!_ Maybe they decided to stuff him in a suit after all?

He slapped himself again. _'Don’t think that! Severo admin goto command…!’_

The phone started ringing again. Jeremy ignored it, flashing his light at the vents and the entrance. Fred stood there, head tilted as he looked into the office. _'Nope!’_ He slid the mask into place quickly, holding himself still.

The bear glanced him over, gave the phone a hard look, then left. Jeremy waited a few minutes, then brought up the tablet and charged the music box as he shoved the mask aside to see. The phone kept ringing, sounding more insistent and irritated to him as the time passed.

Where was Mike?!

Game Area, Prize Corner, Main Hall, Parts and Service; where **was** he?!

The recording machine came on. _“Jeremy! **Pick** up the **phone**! What is going **on**?! **Where’s Mike?!** What **happened** to him?!”_ Doll was alternating between angry shouts and panicked sobs, and Jeremy flinched in guilt. He had caused that, it was **his** fault Mike was missing and now Doll was freaking out and it was almost 2 AM now and how could he possibly rescue him before-?

Kids’ Cove… He stopped with a gasp.

_“Please! Jeremy, what **happened**?! **Tell** me!”_

Mike stood in the empty room, looking up at the camera as though to stare directly at him. His expression was still neutral, empty of any emotion, even his usual barely contained anger. But what made Jeremy freeze in place, blood draining from his face and eyes widening in shock, were Mike’s own eyes.

Black as the deepest shadows with glowing white pupils.

**2:00 AM**


	6. ???

“Ņn͡n̛gh͠! St- _stop_ ….”

_“Mangle, take the night watch back to the office. I’ll take Michael to Parts and Service.”_

_“̴I ̷c-̴co̸u҉ld st̨ill̷ ͠jưst ҉b̶it͞e h͘i͝s ̢he͡a͘d͡.͘ ͜M̡a̧tch̵i̡n͢g̵ s̷e͝t~̴!"͞_ Electronic laughter rang through the air.

_"Hey, that’s not nice! Michael held up his part of the deal, so you keep yours!”_

“-Ha̴h-… -h̴ah̵-… Spider-rat, Şhin̴y Shake ‘N’ Bake… you h͢av͠e̷ what you want… leave Jeremy o̶ut̕ of it.”

_“H̵e’s ss͏s̵t͟ill̴ ̛a̡w͟a-ak̶e̛? ..̛.͡So ̨th̸a͏t͠'ssss ͢w̷h̵y Ma̕r̡i̧onet̵te ̵w̸-w̶-͞wan͡ts͏ h҉i͢m…."̨_

_"Mangle, please do your part and then make sure Marionette doesn’t come out. We’ll have Michael get new life by 5 AM. Isn’t it amazing to know the joy of crea-”_


	7. 2:00 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets start coming to light as Jeremy tries his best to not only figure out Mike’s pattern but keep Doll away from the pizzeria as well. The animatronics can’t seem to agree on what’s the right path to take when it comes to the day shift guard but one thing is clear. The night won’t end well if the Marionette gets Mike first….

**2:00 AM**

Jeremy couldn’t do anything but stare at the screen. Mike stood there in Kids’ Cove, looking up at him with the same gleaming black eyes the crazed animatronics possessed. He didn’t even flinch at the rapid flickering of the light shining into his face. What had been done to him?

No, wait. Black eyes….

Jeremy reached into his pack and pulled out a simple glasses case, opening it to pull out the contents. A pair of glasses, round silver frames wrapping red-tinted lenses. He remembered telling his little cousin he got a job at Freddy’s Pizza as the new night watch. They looked up at him in awe, then handed him the glasses. _‘To help you out. Say hi to Mr. Schmidt’s friend for me, ok?’_ they said, and walked off humming a little tune. Nothing more. But he tried them out of curiosity and, several panic attacks later, he understood what his cousin meant.

He put the glasses on now and peered at the screen again. There! The hazy shape of a child’s figure was overlaid on Mike’s body. Normally, the child sat on his shoulder, eyes bright and teeth arranged in a smile. But now it was faint, floating in front of the day guard, eyes closed and teeth arranged straight, a neutral line to match Mike’s dead expression. Was it the cause of this?

_“That’s it! I’m coming down there!”_ Doll declared on the phone.

“Wait, what?” Jeremy blinked, releasing the light as he stared over at the phone in sudden horror. “No!” Oh, this night just **couldn’t** get any worse, could it? This was it, this was the end of him. If he managed to get Mr. Schmidt back to normal before 5 AM, the man was probably going to personally stuff him in a suit for having his girlfriend show up in the near middle of the night shift.

He groaned in dismay, shoulders slumping, before he tensed at the sounds of metal hitting metal echoing from somewhere beyond the office. Jeremy focused on the sounds, trying to judge the direction and speed. Timing it in his head, he flipped the tablet up to check the cameras again.

Mike was gone.

Jeremy whimpered in fear, tapping over to the Prize Corner and charging the music box for another few minutes. Now he had to start over looking for Mr. Schmidt. Did he have the time?

The clanging grew louder, closer. Jeremy risked a look at the vents. Chicacoo coming in from the left. BonBon from the right. _'Ugh, figures they’d double team me!’_

He slid his mask across to hide his face, then flipped the tablet down and froze, wide eyes focused on the desk. On the edge of his vision, he could see Freddy standing in the office, towering over him in all his tattered glory, a strange black mist drifting around him as well. _'One of you, I’m one of you, please don’t stuff me in a suit!’_

The lights flickered as Chicacoo and BonBon stepped in as well, crowding the spacious room. _“Oh, I thought the cute little Night Watch-chan would be here,”_ Chicacoo hummed in disappointment, _“but it’s just that mini-Freddy animatron again. We promised not to hurt Jeremy anymore, but we didn’t say anything about not **scaring** him to death.”_

_“Like you would **even** do that,”_ BonBon groused. _“You’d probably take a selfie with him. You’re his favorite after all. Where’s Mike?”_

_“Wandering. Turn your back on him once and he takes off and gets into trouble. Little shit never learns….”_ Freddy grumbled and turned to exit the office. _“Nobody here, kid, shut up. Let’s go find Mike.”_

All three left and the lights returned to normal brightness. Jeremy pushed the mask aside, frowning thoughtfully. Aside from the chills at hearing Chicacoo talk so cheerfully about killing him, everything else was interesting information. Funny, if Chicacoo had wanted him dead, why did she lower the phone for him the first time she showed up?

**2:20 AM**

Jeremy found Mike standing by the bathrooms in the main hall, leaning back against the wall and looking towards the Parts and Service room. The haze still lingered around him, indistinct but harmless-looking. Why wasn’t the shadow behaving right as well? The earlier suspicion that Mangle or the Marionette were to blame returned. Mike had been terrified of the Marionette, but it was The Mangled who blocked the room where Mike had been held prisoner and declared him safe.

Movement on the screen. Jeremy perked up at the sight of the Parts and Service door opening. Foxy stuck his head out and Jeremy reached for his flashlight, preparing to shine it at the office entrance to trigger the reset glitch. But to his surprise, Mike seemed to yell at the wrecked animatronic upon seeing him. Foxy flinched, ears going flat and head lowering as he retreated into the room again. A minute later Mike pushed himself away from the wall and walked out of view.

Jeremy sighed miserably, rubbing his head as he flipped the tablet down. This was confusing. What was going **on**? Without a mask, he should be a target for getting stuffed into a suit but it seemed like the animatronics didn’t care about that when it came to Mike. Was it because of what they did to him? He was already acting kind of like an animatronic….

_'Wait. He’s acting like one of them! That means he’s gonna have a pattern in the pizzeria just like them!’_ Jeremy checked his watch. **2:25 AM.** The voice on the phone said that Mike would die at 5 AM, but didn’t say why or how. But if he could get the day guard into the office before then, maybe he could **stop** that from happening.

“Every one of them has a pattern and a trigger that brings them here,” he muttered to himself, sliding his mask on as he heard the laughter of BB bounce through the vents. “What could-?”

_*Ring Ring!*_

Jeremy groaned as the phone went off. It didn’t matter who it was from, **all** calls tonight meant more trouble. Irritation flared as BB crawled into the office and began laughing, pointing at him. “ **Beat** it, Fuckboy! I got bigger assholes to deal with!” he snapped before stiffening in alarm, face burning. Okay, maybe he was hanging around Mike a bit too much.

BB only stared in shock, mouth open, before he turned on his heel and waddled out the door, voice box chittering in a nervous tic. Huh, so yelling works on them? Or only on the smaller robots?

The phone clicked over to the answering machine. _“You’re lucky I can’t find my keys!”_ Doll yelled breathlessly over the phone. Jeremy pushed up the mask, grimacing in dread. _“But I’m still coming down there! I’ll run all the way there if I have to!”_ She hung up, probably to start running, and Jeremy pressed his face to the desk.

Too much happening all at once. _'Severo. Admin. Goto. Command. Auxiliary.’_ His thoughts settled down. Okay, first, check the office entry points.

Jeremy swept the flashlight around, lighting up the vents and open doorway to be certain nothing was lurking. The clanging of metal was close, but not immediately viewable.

Next, check the cameras close to the office. Vents, Party Rooms 1 and 2; BonBon was kneeling by the vent in Party Room 2, sneering up at the camera as he prepared to crawl in again. Jeremy ground his teeth in irritation.

He **loathed** that rabbit. Why did it have to be one of the janitor’s favorites?

“Look at the camera all you want, you jerk. I don’t know what you keep scheming about, but I bet it involves Mike in some weird way and I ain’t havin’ **none** of that!” Jeremy growled, poking at BonBon’s head on the screen. He flashed the light at him too, out of spite, then moved on.

Next, search for Mike. The day guard had to have a pattern and trigger like the other animatronics, he just had to find it.

_*Ring Ring!*_

Doll could be put on the back burner; without a truck to ram the doors, she wouldn’t be able to get into the building. And the only ones with keys to open the doors were himself, Mike, and Crys-Chris. _'His name is Chris. His name is Chris. Gotta remember that.’_ So Doll wouldn’t be able to get in and possibly get hurt. Good.

Mike had been in Kids’ Cove, then the Main Hall; all that’s left are the Party Rooms. He’d already checked the two closest to him so that left the furthest two rooms, 3 and 4.

_“…Jeremy…?”_

Jeremy froze as he tapped the camera for Party Room 4. Mike knelt against the far wall, a dim shape in a dimmer room. The cell phone light was all that he could see, pressed close to Mike’s mouth. He had let it ring too long. Now the answering machine was taking the call.

_“…Can’t re҉membe̕r… getting f҉͝u̷z̶͟z̵̷̶y̕͡….”_

On screen, Mike shuddered, and the haze wrapped more closely around him.

_“…Golden Freddy… ne̛͞e҉ds ̨͡m͢e̶̛….”_

Jeremy’s skin crawled, eyes widening at that. Golden Freddy; why did that name make him feel like the world was ripping apart again?

The haze drew close, the child figure formed again, pressed against Mike’s back in a timid hug.

_**“̸…̕p͞le͝a̛se… I ca̡ņ ̸on҉ly hol̛d̸ him ͟u͡nt̛i̛l͏ ̸5 AM… af̶t͏e̡r th̸at͘, h͘e̸'̷s͘ ͢def͡en̛s͠e͟lęs̶s̴.̛…͟ ͠Plea͘se̛… ̶h̷e̕lp̡.̵…** _

_**"Hel҉p͘ mę…."̸** _

Mike shuddered on the screen, held himself tightly, and curled into a ball. The phone beside Jeremy clicked and disconnected the call. There was no need for it to keep going. The rest of the message came through clear. Mike threw his head back and screamed aloud, the sound echoing throughout the pizzeria.

_"SSSSCCCRRREEEEEE!”_

**2:35 AM**

Jeremy gazed into the shadows outside the office, exhausted, drained, _numb_. Every now and then he would flash the light outside, but didn’t register anything more than that. Dried tear-stains on his face itched, easily ignored.

That scream. He only ever heard that scream from the old animatronics. Why did Mike scream the same way? Was it because of the shadow haunting him? That black haze; Freddy had a similar one around him earlier, but not Chicacoo or BonBon.

“This place is horrible. I hate it,” Jeremy grumbled. Too much loss.

The lights flickered. BonBon entered the room and stood at the desk. Jeremy glared up at him through the mask eyeholes. “What do you **want**?” he growled. That was a risk. He had to be silent and still, pretending to be an animatronic.

_“Oooh, it talks at last!”_ BonBon jeered, snickering. _“Besides, we have what we want. Took practically forever, but we’ve **got** him.”_

“ **Why** are you crazy robots _obsessed_ with Mr. Schmidt?” Jeremy sighed. One of his ears twitched; when had he last wound the music box? He needed to charge that soon.

_“Nothing personal. We just need him to protect the children,”_ BonBon replied with a shrug. _“We’ve seen the old police files on him; he’s **very** good at his job. Fred, Chicacoo, and I; we **want** that data, and we’re willing to help out the prototypes get Mike if they give us that part of him.”_

Jeremy blinked, “Police files?”

_“Local night watch defends child from attempted overnight burglary suspects,”_ BonBon recited as though reading a headline, then batted his eyes so his lashes fluttered. _“Sexy. Imagine if the Fazbear Band could do the same for the children during the day. We’d be **heroes**! Forever beloved in the hearts of children for generations.”_

A flash of anger brought Jeremy out of his gloom. He sat up, fixing the mask more securely over his face as he glared at the rabbit. “That’s **it**? You’re helping them kill Mike **just** so you could be admired by little kids?!” he yelled in outrage.

_“ **Technically** , he should have been dead long ago,”_ BonBon pointed out, wagging a finger at him. _“If it hadn’t been for **her** … well, the memory files we share with the prototypes say he **should** have died from those wounds, but even without her he held on a pretty long time.”_ He scratched at one cheek, rolling his eyes up thoughtfully. _“Huh, now that I think about it, that’s **probably** why the Marionette wanted him too….”_

The look of terror on Mike’s face. The outstretched black hand of the Marionette. The wide smile on the eerie white mask.

“What?” Jeremy breathed out in shock and confusion.

_“Listen, New Guy, it’s best that **we** take control of Mike,”_ BonBon suddenly said firmly. _“It’s before 5 AM. We can’t find the little criminal brat that keeps clocking in after Mike, but if we can keep them apart until after Golden Freddy’s repaired, we’re good. Marionette **can’t** get hold of him during this time, or **everything’s** done for.”_

“What happens after 5 AM?” Jeremy asked, hands itching to grab the tablet. The music box, he had to charge the music box.

_“ **She’s** trapping him in place as part of the deal, but she can only hold out till 5 AM. Mike’s strong, he’s fightin’ her every step and that’s breaking him apart too. Not good for data retention.”_ BonBon muttered, tapping his foot in frustration. _“When she forced him to standby, Chicacoo gave him basic programming. Patrol, protect, remove criminal threats, that sort of thing. So that’s what he’s doing. Only, we can’t control his pattern; he keeps wandering around like he’s looking for something.”_ He shrugged again. _“Dunno more than that; **she** didn’t say.”_

Brainwashing. This sounded like _brainwashing_. Jeremy wanted to press for more information, possibly a clue to undo it all, but he needed to charge the music box and to do that he needed BonBon out of the office.

“Last I saw, he was in Party Room 3,” he told the rabbit. BonBon broke into a huge smile.

_“Yeah? Hey, thanks! Remember! Keep that little punk away from Mike until we can stuff him in Golden Freddy and reactivate him!”_ he exclaimed as he ran off. _“He might end up glitching the software!”_

_'Glitching the software?’_ Jeremy tilted his head in thought, then pushed the mask aside to flip the tablet. Mike had already left the Party Room, so he switched to the Prize Corner and began charging the music box again. Close call; the battery on it was just a sliver of power away from stopping.

Glitching the software… what did that _mean_? Jeremy checked the time. **2:40 AM.** That wasn’t much time left to figure out Mike’s pattern. Still, if the animatronics didn’t want him and Mike to meet, then it must be because they knew something they didn’t want to happen _would_ happen if they reunited.

So, logic says, if the jerks don’t want it to happen, Jeremy **definitely** wants it to happen. Now, what could trigger Mike to come towards the office sooner if his pattern of travel was so random even the other animatronics couldn’t make sense of it?

_*Ring Ring!*_

“We’re **closed**!” Jeremy declared, flashing the light at the vents and entry. The old Bonnie stood in the hall, faceless, tiny LED eyes blinking red in the shadows. Like Freddy, a black haze drifted around the animatronic, hanging close. Ah, crap, just got rid of one rabbit and the other one decided to show itself with its own resident spectre. Jeremy quickly pulled the mask back on and sat down, holding himself still as he counted the minutes.

The lights flickered as heavy steps sounded, the bulk of purple fur on the edge of his vision from Bonnie stepping inside. Had he been fast enough?

Bonnie leaned forward as if to peer at him, then backed away with a rattle in his throat that sounded like his voice box was trying to switch on. Jeremy watched him go, pushing the mask aside with a sigh of relief. Back to checking the cameras for Mike’s pattern.

_“Jeremy! I’m here! Open the doors right now!”_

What?

Jeremy shot a disbelieving look at the phone. Doll was _here_?! Mike was gonna **kill** him.

…Then again….

Nothing triggered Mike faster than Doll. The sound of her ringtone had him jump to attention and he faced the night shift for far longer than Jeremy knew **just** for her. Maybe… maybe **she** could lure Mike to the office?

Worth a shot. But, then he had to worry about keeping her safe from the animatronics as well. Unless….

He took a deep breath. Severo. Admin. Goto. Command. Auxiliary. He got everyone into this mess, it was only fair to do everything he could to get them **out**. Though, to be honest, Jeremy felt like curling up next to a toilet and heaving the rest of the night. This was too much, too fast. Why the heck did Marionette and Mangle pull this when they’d been content with just freaking him out on a nightly basis?

“Here goes! _Coooooomiiiiiing!_ ” Jeremy declared, racing into the dark with his keys and flashlight ready.

**3:00 AM**


	8. ????

_“Patrol, protect, remove all threats.”_

“Le͟t̕ **go̧** of me! _Gnngh!_ Sto͡p ̸i̷t!”

_“Patrol. Protect. Remove all threats.”_

“Chica… fucking d̵u̧ck̴.̨.̛.̢ let m҉e **g̶o̢**! _Gaah!_ ”

_“Stop struggling, you’ll just hurt yourself. …There’s been enough of that. Just give in. Please.”_

_“Patrol. Protect. Remove all threats. It’s really easy, Michael!”_

_“I’m not likin’ the looks of this. Me best friend be sufferin’ ‘cause of us.”_

_“Can’t turn back now. I’m trying to make Golden Freddy a little safer. Least we can do to make up for what’s happening now….”_

_“The joy of creation; don’t apologize for something so amazing. Ooh, and then we can test him on the little criminal sitting in the office!”_

_“Ye plan to turn Mike **against** Jeremy?!”_

_“Child killers don’t deserve mercy. Right, Michael?”_

“ _H͡nn̨gh͘_ … _**p̵͠a͏t̨r̢͡͡o̕͠l̶̨̛**_ … _**p̕-̢p̵̧͢r̡͢o̧te̷c̛t͘**_ … _r̡emo̷ve ͠all̡ ̧thr̸eat̨s_ … _J-Je͡re̢m̷y-!̸_ ….”


	9. 3:00 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night grows more dangerous as the hours pass by. Whatever was done to Mike has messed up his ability to tell friend from foe; everyone in Freddy’s Pizza is a threat! Not even Jeremy can snap him out of this, but in gaining Doll’s help to rescue Mike, he may just seal his own fate….

**3:00 AM**

The keys jangling in his grip was probably a bad idea. The sound carried through the hall as Jeremy ran out of the office, the Freddy mask shoved on top of his hat to keep it out of sight. The glasses had made it hard to see as well, so he had put them away safely. _‘Don’t come out, don’t come out!’_ He hoped with all his might that none of the animatronics were attracted to the sound of keys jingling.

They weren’t. Good for him.

Mike **was**. Good for… him?

Jeremy came to an immediate halt, breathing hard and eyes wide as Mike stepped out of Party Room 1 and stood there, glaring at him. For a minute, neither of them moved. Jeremy took the time to look over his friend for obvious signs of injury. Nothing stood out, so he supposed it was a nice thing that the animatronics didn’t break anything. He smiled in relief, eyes tearing up. “Mr. Schmidt, thank _god_. You’re okay! We need to get back to the office,” he began, reaching out as he stepped towards the older man.

Mike bared his teeth in a sudden snarl, and Jeremy halted in alarm. What? What was-?

A blur of motion was the only warning he got, and he was too slow to process it. His face suddenly felt smashed, the world spinning crazily as he staggered backwards, one hand flying up to his face. Something warm, liquid, was dripping from his nose and mouth. _Why?_ Tears pricked at his eyes. What did he do wrong?! He backpedaled away from Mike and pressed his back to the opposite wall, shaking as the day guard took several steps towards him, growling, hands lifting as though to grab for Jeremy’s throat. “No! Mr. Schmidt, it’s **me**!” Jeremy cried, holding up his free hand defensively. _“It’s **me**!”_

Had that been the wrong thing to say? A flash of rage swept over the older man’s face, the black eyes gleaming, pinprick light inhumanly bright in their centers. He shrieked, the _'SSCCRRREEEEE!’_ echoing in the hall as Mike lunged for Jeremy.

He bolted, terrified and wailing. Running for his life with Mike chasing him like a hound from hell, face battered and bleeding from a punch his friend had thrown full force; **not** how Jeremy pictured this night going. What _**now**_?! He hadn’t been wearing the mask, had been hoping that seeing his face would snap Mike out of it, someone familiar to pull him through the brainwashing. All it got him was a couple loosened teeth and stains all over his shirt that wouldn’t be coming out anytime soon. _'Who am I kidding? I’m just some kid to him. Not that important. Not enough to save him from this. I need Miss M to break him free!’_ Jeremy rubbed at his eyes on the run, staying ahead of Mike through sheer luck. Don’t cry, don’t be weak. Need to throw him off the trail.

Maybe he could be fooled by the mask too?

Jeremy pulled the Freddy mask down, slid to a falling rest against the wall in the main hallway, and forced himself limp, splayed like an animatronic bear may appear to be. _'Please be fooled. BonBon wasn’t **kidding** ; that felt like I’d been hit with a **brick**! How strong is he? And is that something the little ghost did for him?’_ He tensed slightly at seeing Mike speed around the corner and run right for him.

He was not expecting the sudden stop or sharp gasp of pain.

Jeremy dared to look up at the older man through the mask’s eyeholes. Mike just stood there, staring down at him with a wounded expression, like **he** was the one who had been betrayed with a punch to the face. What was this? Why this reaction?

After a minute, Mike knelt beside him and reached out, carefully unpinning his nametag from his ruined shirt. He held it in his hands, grief making the shine of light in the creepy black eyes dim just the smallest amount. _“I͢ t͡h͏ough͟t͘..̢.͘ ͟I͢ h͡a̧d **h͢ope̴d͏…͏** we ̴w̶ou̵l̢d̛ be̛ **͜f̛rien͘d͞s** l͏on̷g͘er̵ ̛th̡an ̧thi̕s̛..̷..̴"̷_ the day guard murmured. He held the nametag close, like he was hugging it, then he stood and walked away, shoulders straight and head up, the tag gripped tightly in one hand.

Jeremy waited until he was gone completely, then sat up to push the mask back into place, wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve. What had **that** been about?

**3:20 AM**

Doll was banging her fists on the thick glass doors of the pizzeria when Jeremy got there, keys in hand. She was yelling, angry tears on her face, but she switched to shock when he got close enough for her to see. He glanced around to be sure no animatronic was nearby, then unlocked the doors and let her in.

"Oh my **god** , Jeremy?! What **happened**?! You’re _bleeding_! Who **did** this to you?! I swear, Mike and I will _kick_ their ass for you!” Doll blurted out hotly, running her hands over his face soothingly. “Does it still hurt? Do you want me to call an ambulance for you? Where’s Mike? We can walk you to the clinic.”

“I’m okay, Miss M. I just walked into an animatronic in the dark, that’s all,” Jeremy told her with a rueful smile, taking his mask off. “Um, actually, you can help me get Mr. Schmidt to come out of hiding.” He handed the woman the Freddy mask and took her hand, leading her to the office. “C'mon, we don’t have a lot of time so could you put that mask on for now?”

Doll slid the mask over her head and settled it into place. “I smell blood on this too. _Eugh_. Jeremy, what the **hell** is going on? What do you mean that Mike is 'hiding’?” She still wanted answers. Jeremy did too. But those wouldn’t come until they got Mike and survived the night.

“It’s a long story, Miss M, and I _really_ think it’d be better told in the office.” He flashed the light down the hall; nothing there. Jeremy exhaled slowly and moved on, leading the young woman along.

“Why am I wearing a Freddy Fazbear mask? Do you have a Chica one? I like her, she’s so cute, when she’s not trying to beat up Mikey. The new ones don’t do that, right? Because of the facial recognition?”

Jeremy shook his hand in a vague manner, dodging the question. He was just about to turn them down the party hall when he was tugged backwards. Startled, he looked over his shoulder to see Doll pulling him in the direction of the bathrooms. “We need to clean you up and I want an explanation, young man,” she told him firmly, her eyes stern behind the concealing mesh of the mask. Jeremy sighed in dismay but followed her obediently. He couldn’t say no to her.

He tried not to think how that was a trait he shared with Mike.

The water soaked towels were cold as Doll carefully wiped away the smears of blood from Jeremy’s face, her fingers gently probing for hidden damage. He uttered a small yelp of pain and surprise when she lightly rubbed her thumb across his cheek.

“Huh. I think you cracked your cheekbone. Strange.” Doll muttered as her eyes narrowed, the mask sitting on top of her head. “The force for that to happen isn’t enough if you just walked around and smacked into a robot. _This_ takes momentum, direction, and drive.” She tossed the filthy paper towels away and cupped Jeremy’s face to look him dead in the eyes. “Either you ran face first into a metal fist for the fun of it, or someone decked you good. **What** happened?”

“Nothing I can explain well, Miss M,” Jeremy sighed, reaching up to pull her hands away. “We need to get moving. Mr. Schmidt should meet us at the office soon enough.”

She opened her mouth, ready to protest, then stopped and peered at him for a long moment. Jeremy looked back at her, puzzled by her behavior. “I swear, sometimes I think you could pass for Mike’s kid brother, you’re **both** so damn stubborn about keeping things from me!” Doll finally declared in exasperation. He blinked in surprise, face flushing at the comparison, then smiled wistfully. A brother… yeah, it felt like that a lot. Jeremy only knew Mike for a week but it felt like they had just clicked together from that first terrifying night onwards. Was this what it felt like to have an older brother that looked out for him?

…For some reason, Jeremy couldn’t quite answer 'yes’ to that.

“Ah! Time!” he gasped, his present catching up to him now and scattering his warm thoughts. “Time and the music box and the patterns…!” It was all spilling over in his head, setting him into a panic. Calm, order, he needed to **focus**! “Severo. Admin. Goto. Command. Auxiliary. Override.” Doll gave him a puzzled look but he put that low on his priority list.

Time. **3:35 AM**. He didn’t take the tablet with him when he left the office. Bad on him. Mike would be _pissed_ if he knew Jeremy left it behind. Tracking animatronics by sound was harder. More of them meant more noise and he couldn’t always pin what was who in the dark. His flashlight was at half power. Also bad; he had been ignoring his usage in the panic following Mike’s capture. Jeremy could still access the building’s lights with it, but only for whatever room he was in, and doing that would surely attract the animatronics. Too undefended, those rooms.

Solution. Return to the office _immediately_.

“We have to go. Could you put the mask on please?” Jeremy murmured, hopping down from the sink countertop. Doll sighed but fixed the mask in place. He gave her a grateful smile, then led the way again.

**3:40 AM**

Jeremy rushed to the tablet once they reached the office, flipping it to charge the music box. Too close; the warning symbol had been flashing on screen. A few minutes more and the Marionette would come gunning for him. He breathed a sigh of relief as the gauge filled up, then checked the cameras. Chicacoo was peering into the bathrooms with Chica. Fred was in the game area with Mangle, Freddy in the Parts and Service room with some scraps of something in his hands. BonBon was glaring into the camera from Party Room 4, obviously angered by his trick.

Mike was back in Kid’s Cove, sitting against the wall and looking down at his hands. Jeremy flashed the light to see better and caught the glint of metal reflecting the light. His nametag? Mike looked up, surprised, before flinching and grabbing his head as his expression grew neutral again.

“Keep fighting, bro,” Jeremy murmured, and the word sat a little uncomfortably in his mouth. Wrong label?

“So **this** is what the security office for Freddy’s Pizza looks like,” Doll wondered aloud, pushing up the mask and looking around. “Mike never let me come see.” She pushed some streamers off a couch set against one side of the room and sat down. “Ok. So, start talking. Where’s Mike and what’s going on?” she declared.

“Miss M, I already _said_ I can’t explain it well,” Jeremy whined, flipping the tablet over. The vents, he had to check the vents. They were his blind spots, them and the area directly outside of the office entrance.

“Mike told me about how the old animatronics tried to stuff him in a suit when he worked the night shift,” Doll told him bluntly, arms folding over her chest. Jeremy paused after flicking the lights on in the vents. “The new ones aren’t supposed to do that since they can recognize faces. So why are **you** so stressed out?”

Jeremy forced himself to laugh lightly, flashing the light at the main entrance. “Me? Stressed? Nah, Miss M, I’m fine! Nothing to worry about on the night shift!”

_-Clang! Clang! Clang!-_

He froze, faux brightness on his face gone in an instant. That was the warning sound, multiple animatronics were moving now. “Miss M, I need you to put that mask on and sit very, **very** still.” Jeremy circled the desk, picking up his pack and shoving it into the left vent. He could feel Doll watching him move.

“Why? The facial recognition….”

“It doesn’t **work**. The algorithms they’re using are based on tech that was in the old animatronics, which were basically copied from the original security animatrons back in 1987,” he explained quietly, pulling the box of party hats back in front of the other vent. “Someone tampered with those algorithms. The Fazbear Band registers everyone as a criminal because they can’t tell faces apart; they’re basically blind. The only other data they have to function in security mode is the clothing of a person and the time of sighting. We’re not dressed like kids and we’re here after dark; boom, instant criminal file.”

Doll stared at him as Jeremy gave her a weak smile and flashed the entrance again. “The mask gives them a face that belongs… so they don’t hurt you?” she whispered in horror.

“That’s half of it. Gotta sit still too. It gives them time to scan and label you as an animatronic. After that you can talk and they won’t mind. Moving too much still triggers them.” Jeremy sat behind the desk and brought the tablet around to check positions. Why all the activity? He checked his watch, feeling a panic start to bubble up in himself. **3:50 AM**. Only an hour left to get Mike….

“How do you know so much about them? Have you worked here before?” Doll asked, tilting her head when Jeremy faced her and gestured for the mask to cover her face. She finally gave in and pulled the mask down.

“Never been to a Freddy’s till I got this job. Severo. Admin. Goto. Command.” He exhaled slowly, getting his thoughts together. “Miss M, when I give the word, I’m going to need for you to call Mike’s name as loud as you can. Right now, just keep quiet, be very still, and **don’t** move no matter what. Okay?” He didn’t like this, so **very** risky, but he was running out of time and options. Jeremy waited until he got a nod, then gave her another weak smile. She’ll be safe. Good.

He gave the cameras a final run, spotted Mike running down the main hallway to stop in front of the glass doors, then gave the Prize Corner a check to be sure the music box was good. As good as it’ll ever be. Jeremy took a deep breath, then flipped the tablet down and flashed his light at the office entrance.

Foxy stood there, head tilted as he stared from far back in the party hall, his eyes reflecting back the light. Jeremy swallowed hard, clicking his flashlight repeatedly to spark the reset glitch. “ **Now!** Call Mr. Schmidt!” he declared, flipping the tablet again and tapping on the Main Hall camera.

_“Miiiiikey!”_ Doll yelled through the mask, cupping her hands around her mouth to direct the sound down the hall. On the screen, Mike stood up from his examination of the door and turned his head, looking down the Main Hall with a sharp glare, recognition making him follow the echo of his girlfriend’s voice with growing speed. Jeremy smiled. _'It’s working! We’re getting his attention!’_

_-Clang! Clang! Clang!-_

Jeremy waved his hand for silence as he flipped the tablet down and crawled on top of the desk. He knelt there, listening to BB’s distant giggles while flashing the light at the entries again. Foxy was gone, but Chicacoo was in his place, holding her cupcake and glaring at him like he’d just ruined her tea party. Doll made to get up, he spotted her movement on the edge of his vision. “ **Don’t** move!” he hissed quietly, motioning for her to sit back down. “ _Please!_ I’m risking enough as it is!”

“That was Foxy, and the new Chica,” Doll breathed, bewildered tone in her voice turning into realization. Her hand lifted to pull the mask off. “Oh my **god**. Jeremy, you’re facing the old animatronics _too_?! Oh my god, that’s more than **double** what this place put Mike through….”

“ **Don’t!** Take! That! **Off!** ” Jeremy barked out in a panic as hollow metal thumps sounded and the lights flickered wildly. A scan! New or old?! He raised the flashlight, pointing at the open doorway just as a tall figure came racing towards him from the shadows of the hall. “What is that-?!”

The lights dimmed to pitch black, just in time to cloak the figure that lunged into the office and tackled Jeremy off the desk and into the back wall. Stars bloomed as pain exploded through his body, and hands were suddenly around his neck, gripping tight. Jeremy gasped, kicking, struggling, flashlight forgotten as he clawed desperately at the hands choking him.

A flicker and a hum, and the lights came back on to the sound of Doll’s terrified scream as the hands loosened only the tiniest bit, just enough to let him breathe, let him see which animatronic would have the pleasure of ending him.

His eyes widened at the sight of Mike’s furious glare burning into him, black eyes showing no trace of recognition.

**4:00 AM**


	10. !?

_“A favorite! Pick a favorite! It will be your prize!”_

“Foxy!”

**Yaaaaay!**

**__** _“Good choice! Next winner! A favorite! Pick your favorite! It will be your prize!”_

“Chica!”

**Yaaaaaay!**

**__** _“Very good! Now~! …A fav̕or̨i͢te.͞ ̶Pic̵k̴ y̢our͏ ̨f̵a͟vorit̕e͝. It͢ wil̨l ҉giv͘e̢ t͠he̶m **l̵if̛e**.”_

_A black hand trailed fingertips over the photo, black eyes gleamed as they drank in the guard’s image._

_“̴͠.͡.͏.͢I ̸͞pi͠c̨k̸͡ ̛ **y̛͠o̷u̧͢**.̵̢͢.͢..̨"̷_


	11. 4:00 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final hour for Mike is about to pass. But it’s very hard to keep your mentor and best friend alive when he’s the one trying so hard to kill you….

**4:00 AM**

There were times Jeremy didn’t mind being short. Mike towered over him -six foot to his own five-two- and often had his hand rest on Jeremy’s shoulder as he explained the company rules, the survival tips for the night shift, or complained about something the animatronics did during the day. It took three days for Mike to pick up the habit and still not realize he was doing it. It took Jeremy one to notice, accept, and appreciate the random moments of contact. They felt warm, comforting, solid; he mistook it for a bond of friendship forming -and it had been, at first- but it seemed much stronger than that.

All the same, the hand on his shoulder habit began because Jeremy was smaller than Mike and was at the right height to provide a natural resting place for the man’s arms.

It did **not** give Jeremy comfort to know that it was also useful as leverage against him, to give Mike the upper hand in choking the life out of him slowly.

“NO! Mikey! _Stop!_ ” Doll cried, throwing herself at the day guard and pulling at his shoulders. “What are you **doing**?! Mikey! That’s Jeremy! Snap **out** of it!”

_“SCCCREEE!”_ Mike shrieked back at her, snarling over his shoulder. Doll backed away in alarm, arms raised in shock.

“Mikey?!” she cried, and the guard went very still, eyes wide and disbelieving, all anger gone as he just stared at her. Jeremy squirmed out of the loosened grip and coughed hard. Hurt. It hurt to breathe, burning. His hand carefully felt at his neck; so tender, it stung where he touched.

“…Miss M!” Jeremy gasped out as Mike continued staring at his girlfriend. His voice rasped, was hoarse and damaged.

“̵...Do̢ll?͡"̢ Mike whispered in a tiny voice, tears welling in his eyes, one hand lifting shakily towards her. Doll nodded quickly, the motion almost silly with the Freddy mask covering her face.

"It’s **me**!” she replied with a tremulous voice. “That’s right! _It’s **me**!_”

Jeremy’s eyes widened as Mike’s hand halted in mid-reach for her. Oh… oh **no**. Those were _trigger_ words!

The rage surged back into Mike’s face, eyes blazing as he inhaled sharply and let it all out in a vicious scream.

_“SSSCCCCRRREEEEEE!”_

Doll recoiled from him, hands flying up to her ears as she screamed in pain. Mike jerked back as well, grabbing at his head and digging his fingertips in, still shrieking in a mix of pain and anger, sobs breaking the sound at random.

What the hell was **happening** to him?

Jeremy pushed himself back to standing, supporting himself with the wall behind him. “M-Mr. Schmidt… Mike… listen to us!” he called out hoarsely.

“͟ **Patrol!̶ Prot̴e͜c̸t͜!̡ R̕emove ͡all̨ ͞ţhre̢at͘s!** I̢ ̴ **ca̵n’t**! I͞ ̴fu̡c͏k̛i҉ng ͘cąn'̡t̸ **t͏hin̴k**!̴ ͡S̴hut̵ ̧up̕!̛ ͟EV͜ERY̶BǪDY͞ ҉FU̧CKINĢ **͟SHU̡T̛** ̸UP!̨"͞ Mike howled, gripping his head and staggering away from them. "̧I̷ ̧ca̛n҉'t̴..̴. ͝ca͟n’t **dǫ** ͠th̢is.̡..̧ f̕u͞c̕king hel͠l͞hole҉.̕...̴”

The lights flickered suddenly, the sound of a box being pushed aside barely heard against the day guard’s screams and sobs. Jeremy gasped, scrambling to grab onto Mike’s arm and pull him away from the vents. The animatronics! They were still coming, still searching for him-

Pain. World reeling.

Jeremy felt everything tip and swerve as he grabbed at air, falling back against the far wall, stunned by the fresh wave of hurt passing through him.

“Mikey! **Don’t!** _Stop!_ ” Doll cried out in a panic, rushing forward to grab the day guard as Mike growled and stalked towards him, fists raised again. BonBon stood at the doorway, watching smugly.

“…took ͠m̡y ͏friend.̴.. t͠o̡ok my̸ ̢Dol̢l҉.̵.. ͏e͏v̷e̶r̡y҉th̨ing ̢I̛ ̸lo̕ve.͘..̴ ̕b͜r̴e͘a̧k ̨it a͢ll... b̨reak i̶t ̧all͢!͏" the older man snarled, jerking his arm and pushing Doll away. The woman stumbled back, hands pulling at the mask to remove it.

_"Oh, crap. He’s glitching!”_ BonBon exclaimed and bolted from the room. _“He’s glitching! Keep the Marionette back!”_

Everything hurt. Jeremy curled in on himself as his arms and legs took the brunt of the punches thrown at him by the screaming and sobbing guard standing over him.

Time was running out.

Everything hurt. So much.

But they couldn’t stop him. Every time Doll came close, Mike pushed her away, screaming louder and clutching at his head in tears. Almost like he couldn’t see her, only saw someone to force away from himself.

Jeremy didn’t have the strength to stand up to him, too small, too young, too weak, too battered already. Too hurt.

His clothes were growing tattered and stained.

“Mikey! _Stop!_ You’re going to **kill** him! Please! Stop! **Stop!** _Why_ are you **doing** this?!” Doll sobbed, pulling at the day guard even as she was shoved aside.

_‘Can’t think.’_

_'Hurts.’_

_'Tried **so** hard.’_

_'Focus. **Please**.’_

_'Severo. Admin. Goto. Command.’_

The pain became more bearable as Jeremy settled his thoughts, shielding his head as he peeked up at Mike.

_'Auxiliary. Override. Goto. Default.’_

The taser caught the light of the office, reflecting it off a corner in a spark of inspiration.

_'Template… ah!’_

“Mike! **Stop!** ” Doll tried once again, yanking on Mike’s arm. The day guard turned to shove her away and Jeremy reached out to grab the little black device.

_'Sorry, Mr. Schmidt!’_

He held down the trigger and shut his eyes just as he jammed it into Mike’s side. The office practically shook from the force of the agonized scream that filled it, a howl that echoed with the sound of a little girl’s wail of pain.

And then it stopped. Jeremy collapsed in place, grunting as Mike crumpled on top of him, bent awkwardly over his side. The taser fell away from them, landing near the flashlight with the battery level indicator still reading half-power.

“J-Jeremy? Mikey?” Doll’s voice was shaky as she crawled towards them, the mask gone and her face pallid.

“We’re okay,” Jeremy replied softly, wincing a bit. It hurt to talk, to breathe. Mike was heavy, pressed down on him. The memory of a similar situation came floating up, of Fred sitting on him with that bored look on his face and Mike trying to instill confidence and assertiveness into him to get the bear off on his own. And when Jeremy just couldn’t get that kind of force into his voice, Mike simply walked over and barked insults and threats at Fred until the bear slunk away, hat pulled low and grumbling to himself, then helped Jeremy up and took time to look him over for injury before sending him home to rest for the night shift.

He wanted that day back. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and Jeremy uttered a small sob as Doll rolled Mike off of him and gently laid him aside. “Jeremy… I don’t understand… why…?” the woman whispered brokenly, her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek carefully, soothingly.

“I don’t know. They did something to him. I’m sorry. I **tried** to save him, but he didn’t _recognize_ me,” Jeremy returned softly, carefully reaching up to lay his hand over hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you seeing him like this, but I couldn’t do it myself. I tried, I _really_ **tried** , but I’m not important enough….”

“Noooo, you can’t say that,” Doll told him firmly, her expression teary but stern, softening as she turned her gaze on her boyfriend, stroking his face tenderly and settling his head on her lap. “You haven’t heard how he talks about you all the time. It’s hard for Mike to make friends and keep them, and he cares so very much for others but he can’t express himself well. And then you came along and lasted so much longer than any other newbie night watch and….” She trailed off, smiling sadly. “He was so excited, so happy, to have a friend that lasted longer than five nights at Freddy’s. He usually runs to work with that look of dread on his face, but lately he smiles more. You’re so much more precious to him than you know.”

Jeremy looked up at her, awed by her words, before whimpering again, hiding his face behind one arm. Doll let him have that time to cry, turning her attention to her boyfriend instead and pressing their foreheads together, whispering soft and loving words to him. Mike was right; she was the best.

**4:30 AM**

“Isn’t that a bit much?” Doll asked incredulously as Jeremy finished the last knot. He gave her a weak grin that quickly became a grimace at the jolt of pain that ran up his arm.

“It’s only for a short while, Miss M,” Jeremy replied quietly, rubbing carefully at the bruising on his arm while looking down at Mike now resting on the couch. “If he wakes up and he’s still….” He didn’t finish, just gave the black tie binding the guard’s hands behind his back an experimental tug. It held and he backed away, rubbing at his eyes to wipe away tears. “I don’t want anyone else hurt… I don’t want to lose more people I care about to this place….” he muttered and went back to pick up the fallen flashlight.

Jeremy could feel Doll watching him with a concerned look but when he looked back she was on the couch as well, Mike’s head resting on her lap again as she rubbed her hand over his chest soothingly, cooing quietly.

Just as well. She was here for Mike, not him.

He grabbed the flashlight and the taser, pocketing that as he checked the light. It still worked, good. The Freddy mask was also on the floor. He scooped it up and held it out to Doll. “You need to keep wearing this,” Jeremy told her. She took it with a small frown.

“Don’t you need this to hold back the animatronics?” she asked in confusion.

“They’re going to be more focused on Mr. Schmidt this time. You have to keep him safe while I keep them out of the office,” he replied and searched around for the tablet. Music box, gotta charge the music box. It was on the desk when Mike leaped at him in a scarily accurate imitation of Foxy. Where did it-?

“Oh **no** ,” Jeremy groaned quietly, kneeling down to turn the device over after spotting it facedown on the floor surrounded by glass. The screen was shattered and no amount of pressing buttons would turn it back on. He lost access to the cameras… and the music box! _“Noooo!”_

He held his head in his hands. What now? What could he do now? In half an hour, Mike could be dead. In less than that, they could all be dead, stuffed in suits by animatronics. They’d be stuffed, or rather just him and Doll, and the robots would take Mike away and do the same to him with Golden Freddy and….

_Golden Freddy…._

Jeremy trembled in place, eyes wide and tears running down his face. Can’t let that happen. Not to Mike. Not with Golden Freddy. Suit takes lives, **destroys** them, **ruins** them….

_'Focus, **focus**. Severo admin goto command auxiliary override gotodefaulttemplateresetregisterrecognize…!’_

He gasped loudly, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes. Okay. The tablet was a loss. He only really needed it to remote charge the music box. Last he checked, it was at a high charge so it should last long past 5 AM. After that, it didn’t matter. As long as Mike and Doll were out, were safe, the Marionette could do whatever it wanted to him.

Jeremy needed to focus on the animatrons coming to the office. Doll had his mask, so he needed to improvise. What was there to use? He looked around the office, then spotted the posters on the wall depicting each of the new animatronic models.

_'Ah!’_ Perfect! Jeremy tore down the poster of Chicacoo and carefully ripped the face out, listening to the alarm sounds of metal on metal. Not much time to work with.

The streamers were more difficult. He pulled the decorative flags off the strings and tied them through makeshift holes in the Chicacoo face. A couple eyeholes poked out and done. Jeremy tied the crude mask to himself, covering his face.

“Okay! Miss M, they look for faces! If they see Mike’s face, we’re done!” Jeremy declared, taking a stand in front of the desk so he had full view of the vents and main entry with his flashlight in hand. “You can make another mask using the other posters or just cover his face; I’ll try my best to keep the animatronics out!”

He flashed the light down the hall outside the office. Foxy stood in the far back, with Bonnie leaning out of the shadows and Freddy taking the lead with a glare on his face, holding his microphone almost threateningly. “You’re not c-coming in! Go away!” Jeremy cried, flashing the light rapidly to set off the glitch for Foxy. “Miss M! They’re almost here!”

“I’ve got Mikey covered! Be safe, Jeremy!” Doll called back to him.

Clanging in the vents, the hollow thumps of someone moving through them. Jeremy checked his watch. **4:40 AM.** Twenty minutes. Gotta hold them back for twenty minutes. He flashed the light at the vents, spotting Chicacoo crawling out the left, her endoskeletal eyes locked onto him.

_“Night Watch-chan, where are you~? In the name of Freddy’s Pizza, I will punish you~!”_ she cooed, rising to her feet. _“New Guy, pretty please, where is he and where’s Michael? We don’t have much time left.”_

“I know. Only twenty minutes,” Jeremy agreed shakily, flashing the light to the other vent. Chica peered up at him from there, her beak spread to display her impressive array of teeth.

_“That’s right. Well, eighteen minutes now,”_ Chicacoo corrected, reaching out to turn his head back to her, the smooth plastic of her shell-covered hand almost burning cold. _“Mangle and BonBon are working hard to hold back Marionette, but we must have Michael **now**.”_

“He’s not here. Just me and a couple of new animatrons, Miss M and uh… Probie.” Jeremy flinched under his mask as Chicacoo leaned close, her wide beakless smile displaying her razor-sharp teeth.

_“That so?”_ she murmured and turned her gaze to the office, LED eyes glittering bright as the lights flickered in response to her scan.

_'Please, Miss M, **please** have him hidden!’_

_“Looks like another Mangle. Two half-dressed endos, one head; they for Halloween?”_ Chicacoo asked, eyes snapping back to him as she tilted her head cutely.

“Y-yeah.”

Another minute passed and Chicacoo pulled back. _“Guess we can try checking the kitchen. Maybe get some pizza while we’re there!”_ she declared brightly. Freddy gave her a flat glare, then groaned when Chica emerged, gave the office a bored look, and agreed to the idea of pizza.

_“We don’t have **time** for that! If the girl lets him go at 5 AM and we don’t have him in Goldie, we’ll **lose** our shot at getting him and we’re not gonna be able to blackmail him into giving up again! We tried once already and he got out of it when his Doll called him!”_ Freddy complained and turned his head to snarl at empty air. _“Kid! I **told** you that nobody’s here!”_

Bonnie leaned around the animatronics as they began hurrying out, his voice box rattling. His head tilted, eyes blinking at Jeremy, then he gave a curt nod and walked away as well.

How strange.

“Miss M?” Jeremy called out curiously, looking back to see how she had managed to disguise Mike.

The young woman had pulled Mike up beside herself, pressed his head to hers, then pulled the mask over both their faces. Jeremy blinked at the sight; two endos with one head, that’s what Chicacoo had described.

She pushed the mask up, looking up at him in fright. “That was close!” Doll told him in a hushed tone, “I can’t believe the new Chica actually got that **close** to you, and that didn’t sound like a script she was reciting!”

“I know. Stay covered. Not done yet.” He tapped at his own mask and turned back to the entrances, flashing the light at each opening to the office, pausing now and then to listen.

_-Clang Clang Clink!-_

Fred. Front and center. Jeremy pointed the flashlight forward and narrowed his eyes, flicking it on and off a few times before lowering the device and holding still.

The bear leaned into the office after a short while, peering at him suspiciously. _“Mike?”_ he questioned.

“Kitchen,” Jeremy lied. Fred raised an eyebrow, glanced past him at the sofa, then sighed and left the office.

In the distance, the sound of the music box kept tinkling on, sometimes overwhelmed by the sound of a guitar being strummed. Jeremy listened to the sounds of the animatronics moving near the office, of thumps in the ventilation system and the klaxxon of the warning system. He wished for a moment to put his glasses on to see if the ghost had changed. But the makeshift mask wouldn’t allow them to be worn without hampering his vision; it was fine, he didn’t have a vested interest in the ghost beyond just being sure it wasn’t hurting Mike in any way.

**4:50 AM**

_“̢.͝.N̛ngh͘.͘..̕.̵"̸_

Jeremy blinked at the sound, unfamiliar compared to the sounds of danger he always heard at night and different from the animatronics that kept showing up at the office. Turning his head, he watched as Doll pushed the mask back up and looked at the day guard resting his head on her shoulder, the only place she could hold him so the Freddy mask could shield them both.

He was waking up; Mike was waking up!

Jeremy found himself reaching for the taser again and halted his hand, looking away with a grimace. What kind of friend was he to go straight to that thing? Better to wait and see if-

_"SSCCCREEEE!”_

“Miss M?!” Jeremy whirled in place, horrified to see Mike thrashing in place, knocking Doll off the sofa as he struggled to get free of his black tie.

_“̴G͏e̡t ou͢t͢ of͢ m͏e! **I̷’m try͝ing̡ ͠t͠o̕ h͠e̕l͞p̴ ͠y҉o̡u͏!̨** L̶et ̧m̵e ̵go͡! ̴ **I'͡m ͜s͡or̛ry, M͝ikey̴!** ̵Y̷ou've̕ ̴do̷ne eno̡ug̷h͟! ̛Ge̢t̡ ͟o̵ut͜ of͠ me҉! ̨ **Yo͏u'r͞e saf͜e,̸ ͘no̴w͢,̴ I͘ p̶ro͜m̛i͏s͠e̡!͏** G͏et ou͠ţ ͜o͘f̴ me!͝ ͝Get͢ o͟ut o͏f̢ ͢m̷e̛! G̨E͟T OU̶T̡ O͟F̸ ME̡!"̢_

**Two** voices. Jeremy stared before running forward to help Doll hold down the struggling security guard. Those were two _very_ different voices he heard. The ghost child? Was it using him to speak?

The screaming was so loud, so _loud._ Jeremy barely caught the discordant sound of a guitar riff cutting short. And the warning sounds were kicking on, metal on metal, pipes clanging, hollow thumps; they were coming, they were **all** coming.

Time!

**4:58 AM**

"Mikey! What’s **wrong**?! Stop screaming! _Please!_ Jeremy, what’s _happening_?!” Doll blurted out, letting out a yelp of surprise as Jeremy reached up and pulled the Freddy mask down over her face just as Mike opened his eyes, wide and wild and still so black and terrifying.

_“̢ **L͘o̕s̡i̕ng c͜on͘tro͏l o͡f him!** ̴G͡et ̛o͞u͝t of̴ m̧e̛!҉ **All ̡on you,̶ ̶J̴eremy!̡ ͡I'm͘ sorry!̵ I ̷t҉ri͞e̵d!͟** ͜T͠hi͟s͟ fuc҉ki̡n̛g̶ ͏p̨lace͘ ͝t̶ook ͢everyt̢hing҉;͜ I'l͡l ҉b̴urn įt ̢t͟o͝ a ͡fu͠cki̡ng̕ pi͠l҉e͘ of̛ a̧shes!"̵_

"Miss M! Let go!” Jeremy cried, scrambling to grab the taser from his pocket. He couldn’t let his friend stay awake, not while he was like this, not when every animatronic in the place was gunning for them. Doll pulled her hands away just as he brought out the taser and pressed the trigger. “I’m sorry, Mike!” he wailed as he jabbed it into the older guard’s shoulder.

One last scream and then Mike was limp again, twitching every so often as he gasped for air.

“Jeremy! What the hell is that **for**?!” Doll exclaimed, rushing back to cradle her boyfriend’s head. “You can’t keep _doing_ that!”

He just pulled the Chicacoo mask off his head and looped it over Mike’s own, hiding his face. He could feel himself sobbing, but it felt like he’d used up all his tears, only huffing in dry gasps as he stood and backed away.

“I’ll fix this. I promise. I’ll get you guys out,” Jeremy murmured shakily. He turned back to the entrance and froze at what he saw.

BB stood there, grinning widely, his hands holding Jeremy’s flashlight at both ends. When had he dropped that?!

Jeremy’s eyes widened in sudden realization. _'No.’_

“Hi!” BB declared.

_'Please, no.’_

BB giggled, and broke the head off the flashlight, wires and battery falling out.

**“NO!”**

The alarms rang louder than ever, gleaming eyes began filling every entrance, the vents, the doorway, the little child animatron standing there and laughing over and over.

Jeremy could only stand there, stunned, by just how **badly** he screwed everything up. Mike had counted on him, and he failed him.

Failed him like he failed his father’s memory.

His eyes caught the clock as he distantly registered himself moving forward to stand before the desk, the last barrier between the Fazbear Bands and Mike and Doll. **4:59 AM.**

A swiftly winding tune began playing in the distance, a merry rendition of _'Pop Goes the Weasel’_. Jeremy swayed in place. So _surreal_. This was it, this was _really_ **it**.

He swallowed hard, looking up helplessly as the heads of eight other animatronics, new and old alike, loomed over him from the dark, mouths opened, teeth bared, black eyes wet or gleaming. The panic was making his head spin and feel disconnected.

If he was going to die now, he would at least make one last connection to his own past.

As Doll cried softly behind him, probably curled around Mike to shield him with her own body, Jeremy took a deep breath and began rambling his last words.

“Severo admin goto command auxiliary override goto default template….”

**5:00 AM**


	12. !!

_“Th͘i͟s o͞n͘e͏ hold҉s͘ so ҉mu̧ch̕ **an͞g͞e̸r͟** ̢an̢d ͏bit͝te͢rņess."͞_

_"̢Bu͜t̨ h͠e̛ ͜h҉as͢ a **st͏r̸en͞gt͏h͟ to su̴rviv̵e͟** ̡th̷at͞ i̢s unm̵at̕ch͡e̸d̴."͝_

_"̶Th͏i͠s o̵ne is so̵ y҉oung an̢d ҉ **fr͞a̡gi͟le**."̷_

_̡"B͞u̴t h̶is͢ ͡ **ho͡p̧e͜** ̧br̸i̶ngş ͟so much͢ ̡ **w͡armth̵ of li͘fe**."͝_

_"Eit͞h͏e͝r one ͞c̴oul̢d w͞o̧rk.̡"͜_

_"Yes, eith̸er on͞e̴…”_

__

_҉"..̨.͠I̧ wa͟nt̶ ͟ **thi̶s** one. ̶T̶hi͏s ̸one͏ wi͞ll̛ ͝help t҉h̡e͠m. ͠Th̸i͟s o̵n͝e͘ ̶wi̧l͠l **s̷av͟e̛ ̛t͞he̷m**.“_

_"A̸n͝d t͞he ̴o͜ther?"̴_

_҉” **Br͠e͜a͢k** ̷him̢.͡ ͟ **De͝st̨roy̴** ̛him̕.͟ Th͜is pl̵ac͝e͞ ̵rųi͠ne͟d͘ hi͢s̡ l̕i͠f͡e͜ ͘on̴c̶e͏ before;̴ ̡t͞hi̢s ͢w̡il͘l͞ f͢inish th͏e͘ ͘j͏ob̛.̶"̕_

_“Si͝m͘pl͝e͘. Ta͏k͝e **t͡h̕at** on͘e,͟ ̕a̷n̷d̸ th̵e ͘oth͝er͢ will f͟a͜ll҉ w҉it͏h hi͢m.͞ L̴i̢ke fathe҉r,̕ ̶l̕i͏k̵e̕ ͡son….̕"͘_


	13. 5:00 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hearts are broken, secrets revealed, and the Marionette steps in to claim its prize. Jeremy has struggled all night to prove his worth as the night watch in Mike’s eyes, but the price to pay for redeeming himself may just be too much for him…

**5:00 AM**

Things took a turn for the strange almost as soon as Jeremy began speaking.

“Severo admin….”

The horde of animatronics twitched, mouths clicking from smiles to simply being open, expressions of glee turning to ones of surprise.

“..goto command….”

Their heads tilted, eyes glazing over to vacant stares, all in perfect unison.

“…auxiliary override….”

The bright LED eyes flickered and blinked, then faded to a dim, dim light with a hum of powering down. The sense of them being poised to jump, to pounce, was swept away to a sense of stiffness.

“…goto default template….”

As one, Fred and Freddy, Foxy and Mangle, Chica and Chicacoo, Bonnie and BonBon, and even BB, all of them bowed their heads, staring emptily at the floor.

“…reset….”

Jeremy was cut off from saying any more as the animatronics suddenly moved, rising up with brightly happy eyes and their arms making jerking waving motions.

_“H-Hey, k-k-kids! It’s your-your old p-p-pal, Freddy Faz-Fazbear!”_

_“Hi there and welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza!”_

_“L-Let’s eat~!”_

_“Partying is fun at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza!”_

Jeremy staggered back from the stiffly moving robotic animals, hitting the desk and using it for support as he stared up at them in disbelief. Wh-what just happened? Why were they acting like that?

“Jeremy! What was that?!” Doll called out incredulously.

“I… I don’t know….” Jeremy returned hesitantly, tilting his head as he looked up at the animatronics. They were behaving strangely. They were behaving… like normal animatronic animals. Why? His shift wasn’t over. It was only 5 AM…. “Ah! Mike!” Jeremy blurted out and scooted around the desk to reach Doll and Mike. “Miss M! Is Mr. Schmidt-?” he began fearfully.

Doll looked down at the day guard she was holding, tilting her head as she carefully shook his shoulder. “Mikey?” she called out cautiously.

“…Nngh… my head’s _killing_ me,” Mike groaned as he shifted and came around. Jeremy smiled in relief, matching happy looks with Doll. The older man shifted again, stilled, then growled softly. “What the fuck is on my face and why can’t I move my arms?”

“Oh! S-sorry, Mr. Schmidt! Here!” Jeremy exclaimed, pulling the makeshift Chicacoo mask off as Doll removed the Freddy mask to smile tearfully down at her boyfriend. “Happy to have you back, sir.”

Mike looked up at him in confusion, then alarm, blue eyes widening as he looked him over and struggled to sit up. “What the fuck happened to **you**?!” he blurted out. Jeremy looked down at himself, taking in the tattered uniform stained with his own blood, the purpling bruises that covered his arms. He reached up and touched his face, wincing at the tenderness and swollen flesh, a split lip that probably would need to be stitched soon.

“Mikey… _you_ did that,” Doll told him quietly, a serious expression on her face when Mike whipped around to stare at her in shock and horror.

“Wh-what-?! _Doll?!_ You’re not supposed to **be here**! How did you get in here?! What the hell do you mean, **I** did that?!” he fired off questions, panic and confusion on his face as he struggled to get out of his binding. “What the fuck’s going **on**?! I didn’t agree to any of _this_ shit!”

Jeremy blinked. _‘Huh?’_ “Agree? What do you mean?” he asked.

_“What the hell are the Fuckboy Bands doing in the office entrance?!”_ Mike screamed in greater panic, “We’re gonna fucking **die** if they catch us!”

“Mikey! Calm down! We’re _okay_! Jeremy did something and they all just stopped moving around, sorta!” Doll told him as she hurried to untie him. Jeremy shrugged, lost as he looked back at the group still moving jerkily around the desk, greeting each other in stilted speech.

“I don’t know if I did anything. I was just trying not to panic.” Was it something he said? Some trigger word that popped up in his rambling list of his father’s final words?

“What kind of _idiot_ tampers with the fucking robots?!” Mike yelled in a fury, making Jeremy jump and turn back to him in surprise. No black eyes; this was Mike himself, through and through. And very pissed off, apparently. “Ya fucked **everything** up! I trust you to take care of shit for **one** fucking **night** without me and ya blow it harder than a rich man with one day to live!”

“Wha-? B-But, Mike-!” Jeremy stammered in alarm, stepping back as he felt his eyes sting with tears. “I t- _tried_ -!”

“ **Nobody** gets in this hellhole at night, most of **all** , Doll! And you drag her _into_ this shit?! What if she got _killed_?! Fucking **useless** punk!” Mike snarled out, jerking his hands free as Doll gasped in shock.

_“Mikey!”_

“But I-!”

The older guard leaped to his feet, grabbing Jeremy by the front of his shirt. “You **don’t** let anyone in! You **don’t** let those pieces of robo-shit in the office! And you **don’t fuck** _with their machinery_! And you fucking break **all** three rules in five hours?!” Mike screamed at him before shoving him back just as Doll leaped up to grab at him, pull him away. “You’re _fired_! **Get out!** ”

Jeremy stared at him, overwhelmed by the hurt, the confusion, the feeling of utter rejection by the one person he’d thought of as a friend. He couldn’t argue, not when he himself had thought just minutes ago that he’d royally screwed everything up. But he had tried _so hard_ ….

And just like that, Jeremy cracked. He bolted from the office, teeth clenched to silence his sobs as he blindly pushed through the crowd of animatronics. He had to get away from those angry eyes and Doll’s stunned expression.

_'I screwed up. Trying to solve this had been the **worst** idea I ever had. I’m so stupid, why did I even **think** I could handle this by myself?!’_

He ran on down the halls, reckless and loud, his footsteps discordant against the melody of _'Pop Goes the Weasel’_.

_'I’m sorry! I’m sorry I messed up! I **tried** to do this! I **tried** to save you on my own and prove myself, and I did **everything** **wrong**!’_

He reached the glass doors and stopped in front of them, sniffling and blinking back tears while he dug the keys out of his pocket. He would return them tomorrow.

His hands shook, gripping the keyring. “C-c'mon, Jere,” he told himself bitterly, glaring at his reflection in the glass as the camera light flashed on behind him. Probably the day guard, making sure he got out of the building he was no longer welcome in. “You were a chicken this whole night and every night for the past week. C-couldn’t last a shift without crying to M-Mr. Schmidt for help. J-Just give up!”

The melody stopped abruptly, and Jeremy’s eyes widened at the sudden appearance of the Marionette’s reflection in the glass, standing behind him with gleaming eyes and wide smile. A black hand, fabric-covered metal and circuits, clapped over his mouth; a striped arm wrapped around his body, pinning his own arms to his sides. He dropped the keyring in surprise, shaking in terror. The music box, how **stupid** was he to forget _again_?

_“T͠h͡e҉ir tra͠de͡ h̛as fal̵l̴en t̢hro͢uģh,"̷_ the Marionette purred darkly, lowering its head to rest its chin on his shoulder. _"I̴ offer **yo̢u** ̛o͘ne, ̶f͠o͘r ͠b͡ȩing so ̨dįl͡i͜g̶e͏nt̵ with m̕y̸ m͏us̷i͏c̶ ̨b͝o҉x͘, ̴f̷o҉r t̵h̛e most͠ pa̢rt."̨_

Jeremy squeaked, looking up at the glass in hopes of catching the camera’s reflection, but the light had switched off. The Main Hall wasn’t being watched anymore.

He was abandoned again. He really should be used to that by now.

_"͢Y̴ou ̵ ͏wish̴ to͝ ̴'g͏i̵ve͘ up͘'͞. I҉ wi̶sh to͘ ͏hav̕e̷ ̶ **them** b͘e͠ ̧saved,̴ b̨e **h̵el̷p͡e͘d** ,”_ the Marionette murmured. _“S͟o, l͟e҉t̢'s tr͏ad̶e ̡p̕r͘i̕zes͠.͢ ̸I̵ ̴w̛il̴l e̵n͏s̶u͡r͢e̸ the͘ ͘t̴wo i̛n ̵the office re̡m̨ain ͠un̕ha͢rm̧ed for ͡as lo̷ng͢ ̸as ̷t̨he ̢da̕y ģu̵a̕r̵d͢ ̵d̴ǫe̴s̸ hi̢s ̸j҉ob̴ t͟o͠ p͝r̷ot̛ect ̸t̵he c̵hil̕d͘ren̕.̕”_ Jeremy’s gaze moved from the camera to the Marionette’s reflection.

_'Severo admin goto command….’_

_“̴I͞n ̧exch̴an̶ge̶.͘..͠ ͞you̧ ̡o͢f͡fer̶ you͏r̛sel͏f ͠t̛o s̶a͡ve **t̕h͢em͞**.̡ Su͏c̡h a **w̵a͠rmth** ̸for̛ li̕fe y̶o͘u̵ ͜have̛.҉”_ The Marionette’s smile grew sharper, or was that just a trick of the glass?

_’…auxiliary over-’_

Actually, that was a **good** deal. Mike would be safe. Doll would be safe. No more screw ups. Sure, his life’s mission would end in failure, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t _already_ failed by getting fired.

_“͢Do we̕ ͏h͝ave ̡a t̢ra̛de̛?"_ The Marionette’s eyes seemed so much brighter, more gleeful.

Jeremy closed his eyes, listening to the rapid sounds of footsteps coming to the Main Hall. The other animatronics on the move? Or… no, it didn’t matter. He opened his eyes to look up at the Marionette and nodded, shoulders slumping. It was a _good_ deal, he could take comfort in that he could do this one thing right.

The Marionette laughed, strangely echoed, and Jeremy yelped as he was lifted from the ground and rushed towards the game area. Terror and panic surged again. _'I'm going to die! I'm going to die! I don't want to die!’_ Too much, it was too much. He gasped, breathing fast, heart racing, head pounding, vision growing dark.

Just before blacking out, Jeremy thought he heard his name being screamed aloud.

**5:15 AM**

His head swam, his body felt heavy.

"…Nngh… mmmph…"

Dark, it was **dark**. His body felt so heavy and sore, aching all over.

Was this being dead? It _sucked_.

He tried to move, but that failed. Felt like his arms and legs were tied down. Sharp, pointy things poked and sliced at his skin.

He opened his eyes.

_'Oh. I’m not dead yet.’_ Jeremy gave the thing in front of his face a curious look. It looked like the inside of his Freddy mask, but lined with crossbeams and non-functioning parts. It was really close to him but otherwise harmless. He could still see out the eyeholes but not much.

He looked down at himself next. He was somewhat bound in place by a cage of metal ribs and support beams, the edges and tips of them grazing over him if he moved too much or the wrong way. Jeremy could see several bleeding cuts where he had struggled and pressed against those edges. His limbs were stuck in holes leading out beyond the shell he was trapped in, but he could feel they were also tied in place.

Where was he? Was this the inside of a suit? Why wasn’t he dead?

"Gngh!”

A sudden sharp pain through his entire body had him stiffen, breath knocked out of him. Oh **god** , that **hurt**! What _was_ that? What was _happening_?!

He felt exhausted, like staying awake was so much effort. Jeremy blinked slowly, raising his head to peek out of the eyeholes.

The Marionette peeked back in at him. If he had the strength, Jeremy was pretty sure he would have screamed.

_“G̶i̴v̕e ͝gift͡s̴. ̡G̨i̧v̷e lif͏e,̸"͟_ it said flatly. _"You a̢r͘e͞ ta̶kiņg a lo͡n͠g t͏i͢me ͡t͏o ̢die.̡”_

"…sorry…." Jeremy mumbled, closing his eyes again. He just couldn’t do _anything_ right, could he?

**5:?? AM**

Another jolt of pain shocked Jeremy back awake, breathless and gasping. What was **doing** that?!

He could hear sounds outside the suit. It took him a second to recognize them.

“Get t͠he̕ ͠fu̵ck ̨ąway̷! Ba͜c̨k͏ o̷n ͏st͠a̕g̛e̢,̷ yoų ̨p̷i͜e͜ce͘s̴ ̡o̵f ̵sh͡i̧t!̛ You!͞ Pu̵pp̴et̵!̶ W̸h̴e̵re ̸t͞he͡ fuck ̴d̵id ̨you͘ take͞ J͟erem͜y?!”

Mike?!

Jeremy leaned his head forward as much as he dared, looking out and seeing Mike jump back from the Marionette diving down at him. His arms were spread, shielding a masked Doll with his own body. Huh, she was wearing the flimsy Chicacoo face. Mike was wearing the Freddy mask, gleaming black eyes visible through the larger eyeholes.

_“Y̶o͞ur ̴t̨ra̕de ̶wit̴h t̵he F̨a̧z͏bear Band̶ is ͘v͢oid!̛ Th̛e̴ ̷n͡i͝ght w͞atc҉h ͏is ̨mine͢! ̷He wi̸ll̵ sav҉e͞ **th͠e͢m̸** ;̛ b҉e̶ g͝rat̕efu͝l!”_ The Marionette hissed, cat-like, and prowled around the room, Mike sidestepping to keep them facing one another while Doll moved with him. Jeremy could see the new and old animatronics hurry towards the stage, fear and alarm on their faces. Mangle scrambled to climb the wall, clinging to the ceiling for safety and trembling.

“My̶ d̶e̕a̷l is _my͟_ iss͜ue! I͏ got a͏ ̛f͜uc͞k̕t̛o̶n of ̢'e̕m, ̢one͢ m͢ore ai͞n’t ͢ _s̷h̢it͜_ ͞t͝o me!͘ ͝But͟ y̴ou ͏tǫuch ̨one ͠hai̸r ͡o̶n̶ th҉at ki̡d͡ and I͟ ͘will f̡u͘ck̨ing̷ ̵E̕ND͡ ̧Y̢OU̢,̷ ̨j̧ob ̸or̛ no͜!̷"͟

_"Yo̴u ͟are no lon̷ge͡r҉ ͜ **nee̷d̶ed̢**. ̕H͜is lif̶e ̧f̢o̷r ̧ **the̛i̡r҉s** ,҉ hi̸s ҉soul̡ w̶i̕l͏l pr̕ote̸ct͠ the ch̵i̵ldr̷e̷n̷.͘"̸_ The Marionette leaped forward again, roaring as it lashed out with its spindly arms. Doll dashed aside with a cry while Mike blocked the hit with his own arms, grunting in pain as he bought the time for his girlfriend to get clear.

"Doll͠,̵ fin͏d͢ him͢!͡ It҉ took him h͠e͟r͘e ̕f̕or a ͠re͏as̛on̸; ̨he's go̵tt̷a͡ ̶b҉e͘ h̛e̷re s͠omew̨h͟e̶re͏!”

They came for him? _Why?_ Jeremy couldn’t believe it, watching as the Marionette pressed forward, lashing out in hateful screeches in attempts to hit the day guard again. Mike kept dodging, stepping out of the way and leading the spindly animatronic away from Doll as she searched the room. _Why?_ He had screwed up. He did everything he wasn’t supposed to and Mike had been **so** pissed off. Why come **back** for him?

_'I’m here. I’m here. This way.’_

His brain felt sluggish. Was he speaking or thinking? Jeremy couldn’t tell.

_“̡The̛ **guil̸t** ̷o͏f̵ th͡e ҉6th;̷ ͡I͏ ͝can d̵etec͠t͠ i͘ţ. D͜o one ̷th̵i̶n͏g **r̢ig̴ht**.͝ ̶Al͟low ̕t͏he g̸i͜f̶t ̷of͟ ͞life to ͟b͟e͜ giv̶en̨.̢ ̕Y͢o̸ưr shi̶ft ̕wi̢ll go̕ muc͞ḩ m͝or̷e ͏sm͝ơo̢t͘h͏l͝y̧ ̢o҉nce͠ ͟ **t̵he̵y͡** ar͘e҉ save̶d.”_

“I ̶f̡u͏c͟kȩd̢ up͜ a҉ ͢l̴o̕t̛, ̕I ͘k͠now!̧ ̴Don͢'̷t rub ̶it͟ ҉in!̛ ͝B͡u͝t l͢ik͠e͡ ҉H͡E̛LĻ w̕ill I̡ le͠t ̵you̵ ̡ta҉k͠e͝ ͏m͝y̸ ̨liļ b̢udd̢y j͘ust̡ ͢t̨o mak͠e ͢s̨h҉i̢t̴ ̴easy f̢or͘ me͢! I ̵ain̴'t̴ ̵T̢H̨A͠T ͢s̡t͡upid͞!͡"̷

"I’m here… I’m here…,” Jeremy gasped out. Oh _wow_ , his voice sounded so wispy-soft and hoarse. What was going **on**?

Doll kept moving around the room, her hands scrabbling over everything she could touch, searching thoroughly. The Marionette turned in place, glaring at her and readying itself to pounce. Mike pulled out a keyring -the one he dropped?- and hurled it at the animatronic, hitting it in the back of the head.

_“̢͞A̕s̴̶s̢̢̛h̕o̵l͞e̷!̶҉”_ the Marionette spat out in irritation, whipping around to refocus on him just in time to get a faceful of Mike’s enraged scream.

_“SSCCRREEEEE!”_

“I’m over here! Help me!” Jeremy called out again, his voice a little stronger, a little louder. He struggled again, ignoring the new cuts and jabs he gathered as he tried his hardest to make his prison noticed.

“ _Jeremy!_ Jeremy, can you hear me?! Where **are** you?!” Doll called out in a growing panic. “Mike, I don’t see him!”

_“I͏ ̷w͘il̵l͢ ̸ǫu҉tlas͟t͟ ̧y̕o̸u͞.͘ ҉I͢t ̕w͘o҉n'̵t ̨b̧e͘ lo̧n̷g.̧ ͢Th҉e̡ ̸n͏i͡ght͏ wa͏tch ̨a͢g̷r̵eed̢ t̴o̷ ҉it̡, af̢t̢e҉r ̧al͘l.̛ It’s ͏ **y͞o͘u͢r̛** ̷f͠ault͠ he's ̷l͢i̧ke ̸t͘h̛i͡s,"̢_ the Marionette purred, stalking after Mike and striking out with its arms, clawing at the air as it cornered the day guard.

"͘Y̷o̴u ͠t̷hi̶n͠k I̷ ̴d͘ơn'̴t̵ _k͜no̸w_ t̴ha̷t̛?͘ ͠I̡ a̛in't҉ ͏ _b̷li͡nd҉_ ;͠ I̛ sa͠w͜ ̶h͜im ̴c̴ryi͞ng̛ hi̶s̨ ͢ey͠es out c̛uz̶ o̕f̡ ͞my̨ ͡stu̸pi̵d ҉m̛outh̶.̛ I w͝as̸ ̕tr͜y̧i͘n͝g͢ ̛t͟o ̸ _s̕ave_ hi̧m fro͘m ̸thi͢s̕ p͘l͡a͡c̴e͞.͠ ͟ _Yęah͏_ ,͠ ͟I f̡uc̶k͞i҉ng͢ w̵ent͡ ̷at i̕t͡ the̡ w̶r̶ong wa͜y but͟ I̧'͟m _s̢t̛i͘l̸l_ look̴in͜g out̴ for ͏him.͠" Mike growled, stepping back until he hit a wall and pressed against it.

_'Leave him alone! You said you wouldn’t hurt him if I gave myself up!’_

_"You̸r tra̸d̵e i̷s͝ ͢v̸o̷id̷-҉"̶_

"My̶ d͟e̴al̢ was҉ wit̴h̵ ̶th̶e̴ F̶u̕ckb̡oy B̛ąnd,̨ no̷t͡ yo͠u! ͏My͠ li̴f̷e̡ ͘to҉ p҉ro̸t͘ect̨ his͞!̕" Mike snapped, yanking off the mask to point at himself. "A fucked-up asshole for a kid who’s got his whole life ahead of him! **Best** fucking deal on the planet! But you love trades so damn much, I’ll give it again! Let Jeremy go! Take _me_ instead!”

_'No!’_ Jeremy’s eyes widened as Doll whirled around near him and screamed her boyfriend’s name in shock.

The Marionette lashed out again, hand gripping Mike’s throat while the day guard grabbed on instinctively, eyes squeezing shut and teeth clenching as he struggled. _“͏I'̷̡͘d ̡͠r̵҉at̸h͘͡er̢ ̵t͟a̶̸k̴e ͟b̸͡͝ot̡h҉. ̨͞D͡o̡ųb͏l̨͘e̷͢ p̵̶r̸i̧z̕͘͟e̡͏s,̢͝”_ it sneered, lifting its arm up.

Hard to breathe. **Can’t** breathe. Vision hazing in and out. His mother’s tearful face. His father’s final words. The sight of him dangling from the air, his legs the first thing Jeremy saw.

_His father’s blue sweats._ Mike’s black slacks. _Gray-sleeved arms hanging loose._ Soft blue-sleeved arms hanging loose, bandaged hands twitching.

Not again. _Not again._ _**Not again!**_

**__**_“Uuuuaaaaaahhhhh!”_ Jeremy screamed, words and phrases spinning in his head, the babbling of a broken man trapped in his memory.

“Jeremy?!” Doll cried, and the mask was yanked away from his face, freeing him to see the entirety of the game area and stage, his eyes going straight to the Marionette holding - _his father_ \- Mike up from the floor, the man’s eyes closed and mouth almost slack.

_'Save him! Save him! Protocol! Registerrecognizetargetpredator!’_

Jeremy’s eyes snapped over to the stage, wild and desperate as he searched the huddling animatronics. “Foxy!” he yelled. The pirate perked up from the huddle, ears swiveling forward as his head turned to stare at him. “Target Marionette! Register Predator! Recognize protocol: **Save Him**!” he barked out.

Foxy’s mouth opened as his head twitched violently, then whipped around with a haunted shriek as he ran off the stage towards the Marionette. Arms held forward, mouth flapping in biting motions, the pirate crashed right into the startled Marionette, sweeping it off its feet and forcing it to let his dad - **Mike** \- drop to the floor, the older man gasping and coughing, hand rising to his neck.

His head hurt. Bright and dark, hot and cold, the room was spinning and he felt fuzzy and light. Was _this_ dying? Was this how it felt to die? Jeremy decided it was preferable to the heavy, stabbing feeling.

But he did it. He did one thing _right_. Some distant part of his memory raised a small alarm -resets don’t last, short-term fix- but he let it slide. He **did** it. He saved….

“Mike! Help! I can’t get this off by myself!”

“ _Fuck!_ The bastard stuffed him in Golden Freddy; why didn’t it kill him? Damn, you’re a lucky kid.”

His body was being lightened, freed of restraints, and he sighed contentedly, smiling weakly up at the faces looking down at him worriedly, the man holding him close and frantically brushing his hair back.

“Jeremy?! Jere, stay with me! Focus on me, _c'mon_!”

“He’s lost a **lot** of blood, Mike; we need to get an ambulance to take him to the hospital!”

He felt warm and floaty and fuzzy and so happy. Was this 'being loved’? Was this what it felt like to be hugged by parents? And all he had done was save his… save….

He did good, right? _Finally_ did good?

“Did I do good? I _saved_ you; I got a second chance and _I saved you_ , Dad,” Jeremy whispered. “I’ll find out… what happened to the others… later, okay? ’m really tired….”

“Jeremy, **don’t** pass out on me. C'mon, **c'mon**. Doll, call 9-1-1! **Fuck** the rest of the shift; the Pirate Puppet-Eater is keeping that psycho thing off us and the rest ain’t movin’ if they know what’s good for them. R̷̨i͏̨gh҉t,̧͘ ̵̶f̡͏ų̸͜c̶k͏̕bo͏̴ys?̢͘!”

_“W̕͟e͘'̴̕͠r̕͡e͏͏ ͏͡b͢ei͝n̴̢͟g҉͡ ̴͘͝g̨͡͡o̕o̡̢d͠,̸͜ ̴͜͡M̡̛͞i̧k̵̨͏e!͞͠"̷͘_

He was being moved, picked up and carried and he felt so, **so** _tired_ and comfortable. He could take a nap like this. Just for a bit. Then he could work on the rest of the mystery. Jeremy closed his eyes, groaning when he was shaken.

” _Don’t close your eyes!_ Jeremy! Stay **awake**! God, Doll, and you’re saying **I** did most of this to him? _Fuck me sideways…_ Jeremy, please! **Don’t die** on me!“

"I… saved you…. Didn’t screw up….” Jeremy mumbled, wanting to snuggle into the black and rest. He earned a good sleep; the night shift was hell.

“No, _no,_ god, **no**. You’re **not** a screw up, I take it _all_ back. You’re the _best_ , kid. You lasted a week, you figured out these assholes’ patterns quicker than I did, you put up with me being… **me**.” The voice sounded like he was crying. “Jeremy, _please_ ; I don’t want **another** bloody name-tag. I want to keep my best friend, my _son_. You called me 'Dad’, you can call me that anytime, just **be here** to do it, _please_ …!”

“They’re sending an ambulance over as fast as they can! Mike… I don’t know if they’ll make it in time.”

“There’s **gotta** be a way to keep him alive! My bandages… my shirt… we can tie off some of the cuts….”

Their voices sounded fainter, more panicked and sad, and Jeremy felt a bit bad but he was just too tired to hold on.

So **tired** ….

_Tired_ ….

…..

**6:00 AM**


	14. !!!

Mike was fine with the color black up until it was the **only** color he wore for any given day. He wore all black for full days far too often to be happy with it. Every time a new night guard was hired, he held out hope even as he took out his nice black work shirt and slacks and hung them in easy reach in the closet.

A day or so later, if the night shift was unlucky, he would wear them to work. It was the only way he could mourn without corporate giving him the evil eye.

Today, he leaned back against the building with Doll studying the times on the doors. He could feel the rough brick scratching away at his nice black shirt. _‘Fuck it. I hate this shirt anyway. Burning it first chance I get.’_

Doll walked over to him, offering a small smile as she reached up to caress his cheek comfortingly. “It’s time, Mikey,” she murmured. “Let’s go in.” Mike sucked in his breath through his teeth, then nodded. He hadn’t come the day before, too busy beating himself up out of guilt and self-loathing for his part in that one horrible night. He tried getting drunk to block it out, but Doll had taken the bottles from him, pulled him towards the bedroom, gave him comfort and soothing words, holding him tight afterwards as he cried. Later on at work Chris told him about his quick pass to the building where Jeremy had been taken, had seen and heard on his way out the kid’s family visiting, an aunt, an uncle, a cousin… no dad, no mom. Like the kid had no one.

_“I **saved** you, Dad….”_

Jeremy’s serene face, battered, bloodied, came up suddenly, and Mike gripped Doll’s shoulder as he felt himself grow sick to the stomach. He didn’t deserve that title, not after all he did, what he had become that night.

“You can do it. He wouldn’t want you to keep blaming yourself for that night. He’d want to see you happy,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. “Just a little further, Mikey.”

The girl at the counter inside the building smiled too bright and Mike hated her for it. “Name and relation?”

“Jeremy Fitzgerald. Coworker and guest.” Doll told her and accepted the direction card she was given.

The place smelled sterile. Mike felt sicker. He _hated_ this place, had been here too many times to count, to recall. But the smell was the same and he wanted to throw up. Hadn’t he promised himself that Jeremy would _never_ end up here? God, he broke that promise **so** **hard** ….

Their shoes clacked on tile, echoed down the hall, making his flesh crawl. He remembered looking into his own tablet when he saw Jeremy’s had been destroyed, switching cameras from habit, and spotting the younger guard at the doors in time for the Marionette to suddenly show up and grab him. Any fear he had of the thing was swept away by the fear that he had just sent Jeremy to certain death by yelling at him, pretending to fire him. His and Doll’s shoes clacked like this, louder and faster, as they ran to rescue him. His heart had dropped, arriving just in time to see the Marionette sweep off into the dark with Jeremy’s limp body clutched in its arms.

“We’re here,” Doll murmured, looking up at the door number matching her card. “Let’s see Jeremy.”

“I… don’t think I can… should… don’t _deserve_ to….” Mike stammered out, hanging back and clenching hands to fists. They were both bandaged now, covering split skin from having beaten the younger guard in the mess of half-conscious insanity. He couldn’t look at them either without feeling sick.

He didn’t even realize they were shaking until Doll reached out to take them in her hands and hold them tight. “Mike, **don’t** think that way. You’re his best friend. You should see him,” she told him softly. “I’m here with you. We’ll see him together.”

Mike pressed his forehead to hers, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt tears run down his face again. If he could _just take back_ the events of that night….

He took a shaky breath, then opened the door and timidly entered the room with Doll’s hand held tight….


	15. After 6:00 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning brings the revealing of secrets from Jeremy, but after all the suffering and pain, it seems that the greatest secret must be guarded permanently by the new night watch. Shadows of the past may just end up haunting them forever, unresolved, to spare a single life.

**After 6:00 AM**

(Two Days Later)

He was still marveling at the numerous bandages wrapping his arms when the door opened. Looking up at the sound, his surprise gave way to happiness at seeing Mike and Doll enter his room. "Mr. Schmidt, Miss M, good morning! I'm glad you came to visit!" Jeremy laughed and rubbed his head shyly. "I guess we match now, huh, Mr. Schmidt?" He waved one bandaged hand as the two pulled up chairs to sit at his bedside. Mike grimaced a little.

"We'd match better if Freddy beat the shit out of me," he pointed out and rubbed at his eyes. "God, Jeremy, fucking scared me near to death. Thought you'd fucking _died_ in my arms when you stopped breathing...."

"Sorry," Jeremy apologized with a weak smile, wincing a bit because smiles pulled on the stitches holding his split lip together and rubbed sore muscle over the crack in his facial bone, his left eye hidden away under a thick wrapping while the swelling from the punches went down. He looked Mike over in confusion. "Why are you dressed like I **had** died?" he asked, pointing at the black shirt and slacks.

"What part of 'you fucking **stopped** _breathing_ ' didn't you hear?" Mike replied flatly, "...And 'cause I tore up my other work shirt trying to keep you from bleeding out. You owe me a new one, Jere."

Jeremy chuckled hoarsely, tugging at the neck of his hospital gown, "Well, I'm still alive. Kinda beat up, but good. Hospital food is lousy. You didn't happen to sneak me any pizza, did ya?"

"We work in a hellhole of a pizza joint and **that's** what you want to eat?" the older asked him, throwing up his arms in exasperation, "Worse than the fucking Birdbrain Twins." Jeremy laughed for a moment before coughing, wincing as he pressed a hand carefully to his side. "You okay, Jere?"

"Y-yeah. Just bruised ribs and a lot of little lacerations all over me, says the doctor," Jeremy returned with a slow sigh, head bowed tiredly. "Also a mild concussion and lots of bruising to my arms and legs, small fracture in my face, bruised neck, they gave me a transfusion to replace the blood I lost... that was a pretty rough shift."

Doll winced as Mike cringed at hearing the injuries. "Fuck me sideways... I really coulda _killed_ you... so small and with all that beating you got...." he whispered. Jeremy reached out and flipped the bill of Mike's security hat down.

"I'm **fine**. My memory **is** kind of fuzzy, though," he remarked, gazing down at the layers of white wrapped around his palm and fingers down to his wrist and onward. "But I was warm and tired and safe; that's really all I can remember after you saved me." He smiled again, ignoring the twinge of pain as he turned it on the concerned couple watching him. "Thank you, for coming after me. I screwed up but I did manage to-"

He didn't finish. Couldn't, because Mike leaned forward to grip his shoulders lightly, his usual irritated expression on his face, a bit marred by the dried tearstains from where he must have cried before coming in. "Forget I said that! _Okay?!_ I ain't having the night watch I'm training talk shit about himself while I'm around!" he declared. Jeremy stared at him in surprise before he felt himself trembling, afraid to hope but desperate to know, tears gathering in place.

"Y-you mean... I'm n-not f-fired?" he stammered.

"Well, since I can't _actually_ fire you myself, yeah. You're still night watch." Mike muttered, pulling back and scratching at his cheek. "Still think you'd be better off anywhere but Fuckboy's Pizza...."

Doll perked up, as though reminded of something, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Oh! That's right! Jeremy, you said you've never been to a Freddy's Pizza place, right?" she commented while Mike readjusted his cap on his head. Jeremy nodded, brushing his hair out of his good eye. "But you were able to control the animatronics for a few minutes, tell them what to do and the like. How did you know how to do that?"

"You holding out, kid? Tampering with the animatronics is serious shit with corporate." Mike grumbled, sitting back in his seat, arms folded over his chest. "But hell, if you can tell the bunch of 'em to fuck off every shift **I** sure as hell won't say a word about it."

Jeremy laughed nervously, rubbing at his arm lightly. "Um, yeah, I don't really... know how I did that. I mean, I get it has to do with what I said, but I don't get why, if that makes sense," he replied with a weak smile.

"Would this also have something to do with how you said the animatronics were blind and that's why the new ones keep attacking you?" Doll added, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You know a **lot** about Freddy's Pizza for having never been there."

Jeremy blinked and looked away from them to stare at his hands in his lap, running his fingers slowly over the bandages. Should he say? Could he tell them about his father and the five missing children? The Bite of '87 and the name 'Mike Schmidt' standing all alone on a page of redacted police notes hidden in his father's journal?

The memory of Mike held suspended in the air, weakly kicking as the Marionette laughed, overlaying the memory of his father dangling from the living room of his lost childhood home flashed to mind and Jeremy was leaning over the rail of the hospital bed before he knew it, retching and emptying his stomach into a hastily snatched trash can placed in front of him.

" _Aaah!_ Should I get the doctor?!" Doll exclaimed, "Oh my **god** , I'm _so sorry_ for asking about that! You're still recovering and that was just so _stupid_ of me-!"

"No! No... gimme... a second...." Jeremy told her between gasps and short bursts of vomiting.

"Eww, make it quicker 'cause I'm the one holding the damn bucket," Mike complained in a queasy tone, grimacing at every sound.

When Jeremy was once again sitting in bed, mouth rinsed with a glass of water and the soiled can set far away from them, he sighed and rubbed the back of his hand slowly. Mike and Doll drew closer, looking at him in concern.

"What happened?" Doll asked.

"Flashback, sorry. Remembering how Mr. Schmidt was held up like that... it reminded me of finding my father when he died." Jeremy drew his fist across his neck and then raised it symbolically. Doll gasped in horror, clasping her hands over her mouth, and Mike drew back slightly, stunned.

"Fuck me sideways straight to hell...!" he murmured.

"My father... **his** name was Jeremy Fitzgerald," Jeremy said darkly, glaring at his lap. "I'm Jeremy Fitzgerald Junior. Figured I didn't need the last bit anymore since he's gone." He tugged at his hair, pulling it over his good eye a little. "He was the day guard and the night watch for Freddy's Pizza back when it had its grand reopening back in 1987."

"That's the year all those tragedies happened," Doll mused aloud. Mike nodded slowly.

"I heard about that. Five kids went missing, presumed dead, bodies never found. Guy involved was caught pretty quick and arrested," he agreed and scowled a little. "Rumor went that the kidnapper-killer had worked for the pizza place. Bad rep."

Jeremy nodded as well. "It wasn't _supposed_ to happen because of the security animatronics back then. The brand new ones that were made to look like the band; they had facial recognition software and were tied to a criminal database," he pointed out. "My father was responsible for creating the security software and AI for them, and the robots had been expensive." Jeremy rubbed at his hand again. "That software was called Active Security Mode. It's what let the Toys wander the building in patrols. I think the phone guy called it free roaming mode? That's what it was."

"It didn't work, right? 'Cause the killer got the kids while they were in the pizza joint, lured 'em away and then killed 'em or something," Mike pointed out dryly. Jeremy gave him a dark look and the older man pulled back again, a sudden flicker of fear passing across his face. "Um...?"

"Something else was messing with the animatronics at the time. When my father's software went online, it controlled them and made them do their job. Things looked like they were working ," he said and rubbed at his eye. Weird, he'd gotten hot just then, a faint ache lurking in the back of his head. "But then a kid died outside the pizzeria during the day while my father was on duty, and the animatronics had no idea what happened. My father got demoted to the night shift and he started trying to figure out what made the Toys fail to see the murder."

From there it became sketchy, his childhood memories a jumbled mess of yelling and fear and words put into his mouth, over and over, until they could tumble out smoothly without hesitation or thought. _'Say it **again**. Do it **faster**. This will **save** you. This will **save** him. **Save him.** '_

Jeremy twitched. "Something happened during the time he worked the nights, like he found something out. He asked for a chance to explain what happened and undo the killer's damage to the Toys. My father got moved to the day shift to try and fix the software while looking after a birthday party being held." The ache was growing stronger, his vision blurred a little. "But while he was on duty, one of the older animatronics brought out for the party had an episode of some kind, and bit the birthday kid. In the chaos of that, a group of kids disappeared from the party. They were never found."

"The Bite of '87," Mike muttered, frowning as he folded his arms over his chest and Doll gave him a startled look. "Phone Guy mentioned it once. Lemme guess, corporate blamed your dad for that?" Jeremy nodded. "Figures. Buncha assholes."

"My father was thrown under the bus; the company put all the blame for the Bite and the disappearances on him and fired him. The pizzeria was eventually closed to reopen at our current location." Jeremy hurried to finish his story. _Everything_ was starting to hurt now. _Why?_ "The security animatronics were scrapped, and my father lost it after witnessing the Bite. But, he managed to put one last piece of software into the animatronics. I think it was the fix for the bugged-out one, or something."

Mike gave him a squinty-eyed look, like he was trying to piece something together. "And then he killed himself?" he asked bluntly.

"Not right away. Mostly he just said a whole bunch of words over and over, all the time." Jeremy said in a rush, blinking as the ache faded. "So much, we're pretty sure he went insane. He just kept saying them, over and over, until the words and the patterns got stuck in my head and I don't really think about it." He laughed nervously. "When I get scared or can't focus, I just start saying them."

Silence fell over them as they considered the story. "The words you say, from a coder... what if they're a code too? And they stop the animatronics for a little while? You told me the Fazbear Bands in the pizzeria all have that buggy software copied to them too, so the code works on them." Doll suggested in slow, even words. "Are you... are you trying to fix them in place of your father? Is that why you're working at Freddy's?"

Jeremy shook his head. "Not quite. I'm trying to find out what really happened to those five missing kids so I can prove that someone else messed up my father's programming," he replied quietly. "If I could fix them...."

"That's **still** tampering. Corporate would come down on us like a fat kid at a buffet," Mike pointed out suddenly, eyes now closed as he kept that look of concentration. "Something... something doesn't feel like it's adding up...."

"What about the surviving child? They're a witness, right? They could help describe the animatronics' acting up!" Doll exclaimed hopefully.

Jeremy opened his mouth to respond when the flare of heat rushed through his body, a burning wave.

_"̵D̸ǫn̢͘'t̵͡ s̷a҉̴y͟͝ ̷͞ **a҉͝͞ny̕t҉h̴͡i͞n͏g͘**!"҉͟_

He gasped, clutching at his heart as he bent in place, distantly hearing Mike and Doll yell in alarm, the security guard running out to get help. "Wh- **wha** -?! _Aaagh!_ "

_"̕͜͠D͜͡҉o̢̕n̵'̕t͢ ̨͡s̕a͏y̕ ͘͜a͏ ̶̷ **w̵ǫ̨͟rd͏**!͏ ̡͟H̴͘e͝ **c̷̸̢a͘n̵'t̸ ̡** r̸̡͜e̵͡me͟m͠b̴e̛̕r̴!̨"̨͠_

"Jeremy, what's _wrong_?! Hold on, Mike's getting a doctor!" Doll cried, rubbing gentle circles over his back.

So hot, so **hot**. Flames singing through his blood. Dizzy. Sick. Fever?

"̵If ̕h̷̨͝e͜ ̨rȩ̸m͏͘e̛͜͡m͏b̛e͜͢͠rs̶̡,͝ ͜h̛e̴̴͘'͠͞l͏l̸ ̴ **di̴͠e͠͝**.͟͟ H̷͘e̛'̶͞ļl̷͟͟ ̢d̕e̶m̕͠a͜nd t̵o̸͜͢ ̴̕k̴̨n̨͢o̡w̵ ҉t͢h͞e r͢es͠t̕͝ ͜a̴n͞d **͠h̵̡e'͏҉l̨͡l** ̷̧͝ **b̢͞e̵** ͠ **k̢͘i̸̧ll̵̛e͞d̷**. ̸̨ **S̛͡A͏Y̶̛͘ N̡҉Ǫ̛T̷H̡͝I̶͞NG** ̢҉a̸͢҉boư̕t̶̵̛ ̧t̸҉he͢ Bit͢e ̛͢o̴f̴̡̕ ̛'8͜͜7̢͝͡ ̵v͏͏i̵c͏̷̢tim̸!̷"҉͘҉

_"Jeremy!"_

When he woke again, he was alone and it was dark outside his window. Jeremy lay in bed in the empty room and raised a hand to his eyes, feeling the tears run down his face. Too much. He missed having Mike and Doll there already. Them being near, it was such a comfort. And he needed to see, to know, that they were okay.

He pushed himself up to sitting, wincing at fresh aches and stings -had he torn open some of the cuts?-, and looked around the room for a phone to call them, let them know he was awake and fine.

His things were on the bedside table, his backpack, glasses case, and nametag. Jeremy reached out to take the tag, paused, then picked up the case instead.

The glasses his cousin had given him; had Mike brought them along with his other things? He couldn't remember if they did, just too wrapped up in his joy at seeing them. _'Wonder if that little ghost was with him when he came?'_

He opened the case and pulled out the glasses, looking the lenses over for damage before shrugging and slipping them on. If not for the strange effect they had, they might have been cool enough to wear normally.

As soon as they were on, Jeremy saw the face of the little black shadow close to his, eyes wide and teeth set in a stern expression.

_"Hhhyyyaaaaagh!"_ Jeremy screamed, throwing up his arms defensively. The ghost leaped back, standing on his bed with its arms on its hips, like it was going to scold him.

"͠You͜ ͝a͜lm͜o̕s̸t͠ ̢told͢ ̧hi͠m͘ ͜ **every̵thin͘g**!͟ Ţh͏a̕t̛ wo͝u͏ld ̧h̨ave̡ ͠been͝ **b͘ad**!"͡

"Hhnk!" Jeremy choked in alarm, eyes wide and panic rising as he kept his arms up. _'Severo admin goto command-!'_

"͡I̵'m s̴o̵rr͜y̧. D͟i̸d ̕I sca͜r̶e͏ y̢o͘u?͞ ҉Yo͞u̵'re we͘a̷r̛ing ͞the ̧gl͞asses, so̡ ̸y̕ou **c̛an̢** see m̸e,"҉ the ghost said, looking a little abashed, hands going behind their back as they fidgeted in place.

He blinked.

"You _know_ that?" he asked, curiosity winning over fear for the moment. "You know I can see you with these?" The ghost nodded.

"I̡ ̧ **m͡a͡d͠e͘** ͘t̨h͏e̢m͞.͘ G͠laşs̛ fo͏r̸med̕ f̸r̢ǫm͟ m̧y͏ ̶so̷u̴l͟ a͟n͢d ͢b̷o̴und t̨o t̴h͘e͡ ̨living w͟o͠r͘l͢d w͏ith̡ t͠wo d̷r͡ops of͢ M͝ik̢ey'̧s̢ ͠blo҉od; I ͝m̵a̧d̸e ̧the͝m̡ for m̨y fr̢i͟e͞n͝d̢, so ̴wh̨y̴ d̵o **you̴** ̵h͠a͞ve͞ ̵t͞hem͢?͡" He told the ghost about his cousin, the night they got left behind in a pizza place, and their admiration for the night watch who kept them safe for a whole six hours."O̷h͞, ̨yo͠u̸'҉re that ̸k͟id'͝s c͟ousi̴n?̢ I̴ ̸gu̕ess ͟y̶o͏u͜ ca͜n͟ kee̵p ͝t͘he͏m t͟h̡e͝n.̛"͢

"Wait, why haven't I been able to hear you until now?" Jeremy asked in confusion. The glasses had never let him hear the child before. He'd seen it make motions like it was laughing or yelling around Mike, but there was never a sound.

"B͡ȩca̛u̶s̵e ͟t͡he ̸Mar͠io̧n̛e͟t̷t̕e̵ st͝ole̢ pa͡r̕t ͡o̡f ̛y͘o̸ur̨ lif̨e and ̕gave͝ ̧it to ͘m̡ȩ ̛and ͘th̸e͝ o͘the͝r̶s. S͠ơ ̶w͟e̸'̴r͞e ͞a̵ll̵ a ̢b͠i̕ţ s͢t͡ro͜n̢g̡e̴r ̴an͟d҉ mo̡re.̨.. ̷' _alive_ ',"͟ the ghost explained, looking sorry for that as well, fiddling with their fingers in front of him.

"M-my _life_ -?"

"Į dunn͠o͞ ̛wh̢y ̶it'd͏ ͡d͟o ҉tha̢t̸.͝ I͏t̸ ͢ **killed̨** u̶s͟, so͟ ̡why̡ b̷ring̷ u̸s ͞b̛ack͘ ̶t̢o l̢ife̷? It'͡s̢ ̸cre̢epy̴ a͜nd͡ ̵ **wei͝r͞d** ," the ghost grumbled bitterly. "An͟d ͡i̧t̕ tr̵ied t͜o͡ ̷sţeal͏ ̷M͝i҉ke҉y'̡s̶ ̷l͠i͢fe͟ ͞t͏o̕ ̛d̷o it, but͡ you͞ s̢ac̵ri̛fi҉çe͠d̡ ̧part o͠f y͞o͘u͢rs i̢n͏ste͏ad.̶"̴

Oh... was **that** why he felt so exhausted and drained in that suit? Jeremy lay back against the pillows holding him upright, sighing tiredly as he rubbed at his head. "Okay. So you're here to tell me I _can't_ tell Mr. Schmidt about the Bite of '87?" This is _insane_. He was holding a conversation with a ghost. That job at Freddy's has made him lose his mind after just a week. Must be a new record.

"If͢ h̸e ͝reme̡m͘b̷ers, ͠he'll͘ f͢re̛a̸k̴ ͡and co҉nfr̴ont͘ Fox̷y͢. ͏The o͝ne͞ i̕n ̛F͢oxy ̨i͟sn'̨t h͡appy͘ ̴w̢it̕h͝ ͞Mi͡k̸e͝;҉ ͢she p͜re̶t̷ty͝ ͠mu͝ch͏ ̛ha͡t̢es ̧hi̸m **m͘ore̛** tha͟n she̕'s̴ hat̴ed̵ ̧any͠one̕ ̕els̨e ̨tha̕t's ͟wo͡rked̡ at҉ ̕Fr̨eddy̷'s,͢" the ghost mumbled. "S͢he͘'͘l͞l̕ ͘k҉il̕l ͜hi͢m͡ o͜n͡ t͠h̸e̵ sp̛o͠t.͢ That's̸ a fact."

"But I **have** to uncover the truth behind who messed with the animatronics; that tampering is what led to you and the other children being killed and Mike getting bitten." Jeremy waved a hand around in frustration. "Everything out in the open!"

"Y͘e͝ah͘.̵ **Y̢ou̶** do͜ ̷t͟ha̵t͡,͢ ͡a͟nd̶ **Mik̵e͠** ḑies for it.͝ ͟G҉ood̴ ͡o҉n you͟."

"You sound an awful lot like him."

"I͠ ̷ **sho͜ul̨d҉**. I've ͘bee͢n i̴n҉ h͏is bo̕dy f̧o͢r̡ ͏c͘l͜os͠e t̢o̢ ͝t̕w̧enty ͞y͏ea̵r͝ş now҉.̨"

Jeremy sighed again. That makes sense.

"N̛o͟w͞ ̛I'm͜ in̨ ̨yo͢urs͏."

**That** did not.

" **What?** What are you-? No, _no no_ , you did **not** just say that." Jeremy babbled, sitting back up and feeling the panic return, hands patting himself over. "You **can't** be in me, you're in _Mike_ ; why are you even **in** Mike's body?!"

"̛To̶ he̸lp ̵him͞. Mak̕e su̡rȩ h͢e's ̶safe̸ ̡a̕nd͞ hap͡py,"͠ the ghost replied with a half-shrug. "̢You ͟w̡e҉r̢e d̕y͠i͠ng ̸in ͢h̶i͞s a̸rm͞s ͠an͡d ͘h̷e w̵as so͟, so ͘sa̢d. ͘I̢ **ha͜d͡** ̛to҉ ch҉an͟g͟e ͘th̛at͡. So I ̨left him w͏h͢e̷n y͞o͢ur ̧h͢ea͜rţ s̷t͝o͢pped͡ and͟ ͡g͟ot ͏i͡nto ̛yo҉u̡ and b̸r̵oug̡h͟t ͜you ͠b̛ac̵k l̢ơn̶g͡ e̡nough̷ t͜o ge͝t ͏h͟el͘p ͘h͏er̴e.̸

Oh god, oh **god** , this was **too** much. Jeremy felt faint. "S-so, when Mike and Miss M were here-?"

"I̡ was **alr͟ead̸y̢** here.͢ ̕I̧ ͞w̷a͘s̛ w̷i̸th͜ y̵ơu ̶s̢i̡nce͜ ҉th͏e ̕am͢bu͘lan̛c̴e̴ ͡to͝ok ͠yo̵u t͏o͘ t̕h̢i̷s h̡o͟s͠p̧i͏t̸al for̡ su̡r̛g͞ery.͝ ͞Pre͟tţy su͜r̢e Mis̨s D̷ol͏l ̧to͟o҉k̷ ̡M̡i͝k͜e̵y҉ h͏o͘m̧e ͟a͠nd ͟h̨elpe̛d ̧him̛ c͏a͟l̕m̧ ̨do͜wn̴. ̛She̢'s̕ a͟ ͡nic͜e̡ la̛d̸y." The ghost fiddled with their fingers again. "̨I̷ ca͡ņ ͏g͡o͢ b͟ac̢k͠ ͏t̡o̧ ͢h̛i͝m̴ when̶ yo͏u͡'re feeling͏ bet͝te҉r,̧ ̴b̸ut̸.͜..̡ if ̢y͟ou'̧re g͜oņna̴ wor̵k ͏at Fr̡e̛d҉dy's ̶and yơu're sti͏l͢l̷ all͠ beat̸ up͜.̵.̕. i͘t'̛d̵ b͘e ̢ea̶s͘ier i͞f I wa̛s ̛wi̴th̶ yo̶u ͢t͟o ҉help."̵

"...right...." Jeremy muttered. He saw already what Mike could do under the ghost kid's power. None of that, he wanted **none** of that. "Screaming like a banshee, beating the crud out of things; that's _totally_ going to help me."

"̴Oh, no,̧ ̡t̢hat̨'s ҉j͜u͝st͟ Mike͠'̨s͘ ͝styl҉e,͞"̡ the ghost piped up brightly. "͝Mikey's͟ l͞oud ̛and ͏an͝g͠ry̶ ͜a͏n͝d͢ ̢hi͟ts ̴thinģs,͢ s͢o I j͠us̛t ͠b͜o͏os͠t ̢th͜at so͘ ͠h̕e'̨s ̡mor̢e ̛p҉ow̢er͢ful. Buţ you̧'re d̢iffer͠e̶n̸t! It͡'͜s a̶ g̷o̕o͢d̶ ͞dif̛fer̕e͟nt̨!̕"

"No ' _scree_ '?"

"O̸nl̕y͏ i̡f͜ ̧y̛ou̷ **w͠a͢n̡t** ̶to.̛

"Thank you." Jeremy rubbed his head. Was he actually accepting this weird kind of help? "But, about my mission...?"

The ghost looked frustrated now. "͘I ̕ **tol̢d** yo̢u, **n͟o**!͝ M̴i̴ke̛y͜ **c̨an͞'t͝ ev̶er͏** k̵now̢ ̶ţh̶at̴ Foxy ̴b͝it͘ ͏h̴im!" it yelled, waving little fists around in black blurs. "I'͠ve b̵e̸e͏n ͢tr͠yįng ̢m̸y̸ ̴ha͜rd̢est͞ to͠ ̢ma̵k̢e͝ ̛sur͞e͜ h̡e **do҉es͟n̢'t** re҉me͟mb͡er̸ ̡so ̵h̨e͢ ̴ **do͏e͝sn't** g͘et ͘ **ki͏l̶ļe͠d**!"

"But that was when he was alone. He's got **me** now, a friend to stand by him," Jeremy told the shadowy child with a hopeful smile. "If we're together, then-"

"͞T͟hęn͠ ̧ **y͠o͝u͠'ll͞** ͝pro͡ba̢bly d͝i̡e.͏" The ghost glowered at him. "T̵her͡e's͠ ͠no ̶av͟o͏i͟d̸in͟g҉ i҉t,͝ ͏Jer̴em̧y.͝ ̵M̨i͜ke͡y, Fox͠y, a͘nd͟ yo̡u, ͏c͠au̕ģh͘t̛ ͟i͢n t̕he͘ c͝on̷fro͠n̡t͢a̶t͘i͘o̷n̶;̵ no m̷a̛t҉t͞er͞ ͡ **what** h͘ap͠pens, ͝ **ther̡e͞ w͏i̸ll̨ ͟b͢e ̕d̕ea͠t͏h** ͠that͠ com͡e̡s ̴f͟rom҉ i̷t͞."̕ He stared at the child, eyes wide with horror. "͝Yo͞u ̧kn҉o͜w̡ th҉e ͞trut̕h ͠yo̵u ̷w̸ant̢ed̵ to ̴f͏i͡ņd̸, but yo͘u ca̷n͜ neveŗ, **ev̸e͝r̴** l̵et i̢t see th͢e͟ l̨igh̶t̷."̧

Was that it then? His goal... his dream of redeeming his father... Jeremy would have to give it up to keep his best friend alive?

"̴W҉el҉l̕, i͟n̸ ̷th̶e͡ end, it̴'͢s̛ ͠a̛l̸l ͘o̵n y͢ou. I̢ c̶an̡'҉ţ ̛ac̛tual͟ly sto͞p ̡y͜ou un̛l̵es͝s yo͠u let͞ ̶m͜e͠,̧" the ghost sighed.

"I'll think of a way," Jeremy murmured, laying back in bed again as he took the glasses off and set them back on the table. "Give me time, little one, and I'll **find** a way to show the truth and keep Mike alive."

"̢B̷u͏t҉ ͢y҉ou'̴ll͝ ̨let me h͘el͏p y͟ou at ni̡ght? ͝W̨h̕en̵ I̢'̛m ͠not h͡e͡lp҉ing ̵M̵ikey̴?"͝

"...sure...." He still had questions. Why did the ghost turn on Mike, then, if it wanted to help him? Why couldn't Mike hear it if it's been with him for so long? Why was the ghost in Foxy so dead-set on killing Mike? How did the Marionette steal his life and how much did it take? Did it mean his lifespan was shortened? And how was the Marionette involved in the deaths and hauntings of the five children?

They spun around in his brain as he closed his eyes. For a moment, Jeremy thought he felt a small hand brush hair away from his face, a soothing warmth spreading over his body.

Oh well. He'd need the help to watch out for the animatronics anyway. The night shift at Freddy's was hell.

_Mike smiled at him on the morning after his seventh night, pulled him into a tight hug that seemed to last forever. "You did great, Jeremy. I had a feeling **you'd** be the one to last."_

But - _his dad_ \- - _best friend_ -... Mike and Doll were worth it. If he could find closure for all of them, they'd all be happy. He fell asleep with a hopeful smile.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr at Nov. 14, 2014.
> 
> After Night of the 7th, I had no other ideas for fics in the original Reborniverse until FNAF2 came out and 'wrecked' the timeline for the AU. I wrote this as the foundation for repairing the AU's timeline by creating a second Jeremy Fitzgerald and dividing the events into a past and present perspective. This allowed for canon events to still dictate the rest of the AU and keep it functioning. At least until future games started messing with it even more.


End file.
